


The Demonhunters of St. Josephine

by Neurocrat



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, everyone is a woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 14:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11716104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurocrat/pseuds/Neurocrat
Summary: Jessica Jones and Madeline Murdock may appear to be normal students at St. Josephine College (well, okay, not that normal), but they’ve both got ulterior motives aside from higher learning. They are both demon-hunters, trying to get to the bottom of some creepier-than-usual paranormal activity at the college. Thing is, neither of them knows the other is there, and this small liberal arts college isn’t big enough for both of them. They have to learn to live with each other, fight evil, and manage to survive college at the same time. Supporting cast includes Lucy Cage, Jessica's strong-and-silent roommate; Karen Page, the budding reporter who’s digging a little too deep; and Francesca “Foggy” Nelson, Maddie’s best friend and maybe more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Art by [chargetransfer!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/chargetransfer/pseuds/chargetransfer) Who you can also see on tumblr [here!](http://chargetransfer.tumblr.com/) Thanks to HoneyGoth for beta reading & to my Main Squeeze for editing and suggestions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jessica’s phone buzzed and she took it out of her pocket. It was another text from Trish:

            Me again! Hope you’re not dead.

Trish had sent a bunch of unanswered texts in the past two weeks. Jessica knew Trish was checking up on her; she owed her a call. She made the call while walking up the hill to her morning class, taking a bite of a donut she’d swiped from the dining hall.

Trish’s voice came across the shitty connection. “Hey! You finally called.” It was always so good to hear her. Jessica needed to remember.

“I always do, eventually,” Jessica replied in an irritated tone, around her mouthful of donut, instead of apologizing as she meant to.

“How are things so far? How do you like it? How’s Philly?”

“Philly’s okay,” Jessica said. It had been a bit of culture shock, coming out here to the Philadelphia suburbs. But that’s where St. Josephine College was, and that was the only place Jessica could go. “There was a really stupid orientation thing. I skipped pretty much all of it. Trust-building activities -- barf. How’s your sophomore year in the hallowed halls of Yale?”

“The usual,” Trish said. “Lot of assholes, but also making a lot of good connections. I’m finally getting my own program at the college radio station. It’s at one in the morning, but still. If it’s good, I might be in the running for a better time slot later on.”

“That’s great,” Jessica said, taking another bite of donut.

“You’re eating,” Trish observed, “and walking and talking on the phone, at the same time.”

“Breakfast,” Jessica explained. “On the way to class.”

“Something vaguely healthy, I hope?”

“Donut.”

Trish sighed. “Don’t worry. I know better by now than to try to lecture you. So, what’s it like being at an all-girls’ school?”

“It was weird for about one day,” Jessica said, “but I got used to it. I kind of don’t miss dudes all that much.”

“What a surprise. How’s your roommate?”

“Lucy? She’s okay. I think she’s a morning person. I barely see her.” When Jessica did see her, Lucy mostly kept to herself. Also, she looked like a goddess. Jessica didn’t mention that part. “And your place? How do you like living in an off-campus apartment?”

“It’s fantastic,” Trish said. “I’ll be happy if I never see the inside of a dorm again. New Haven’s mostly a sad little town, but it’s got its perks. You should come visit.”

“Maybe,” Jessica said, “sometime. I have a feeling I’m going to be pretty busy here.” She passed by a student who looked a little too gaunt and toothy, and wondered if the vampires were already coming out of the woodwork. _Later_. She could investigate later. She was coming up on Hemsworth, the building where her introductory biology class was held, with its fortress-like structure and Art Deco relief lettering above the front door. “Listen, I gotta go, I have class.”

“Okay,” Trish said, “but, call me again soon, alright? I want to catch up more.”

“Sure thing,” Jessica said, feeling the usual stab of guilt over the probable lie.

\--

Jessica was trying to keep her eyes open and listen to the professor explain the differences between archaeabacteria and eubacteria, when her phone began blaring the Ghostbusters theme song. “ _Shit_ ,” she grunted, too loud, scrambling to get it out of her pocket and silenced. Several students in the auditorium turned to look at her, some sighing or glaring. Jessica swore again at herself, quieter this time. She’d been out of school for two years; she had lost all her classroom habits, like silencing her phone before lectures.

The Ghostbusters theme was her ringtone for Jeri. _Jeri also needs to re-learn classroom etiquette_ , Jessica thought, swiping on Ignore. _I’m a goddamn college student now. She can’t just call me whenever._ She was putting her phone away when she saw the text.

            Call me ASAP

Jessica rolled her eyes, and tapped in her reply.

            I’M IN CLASS

She turned off the screen and threw her phone in her bag before she could see Jeri’s reply. Ten minutes further into the lecture, though, she realized she wouldn’t be able to concentrate, anyway, until she found out what Jeri was so impatient about. She took out her phone again, saw the response from Jeri:

            This is more important

Jessica gathered her notebook and bag, grumbling apologies to the miffed students she had to step over to get out to the aisle, and exited the back of the auditorium. In the hallway, she made the call.

“Jeri Hogarth.”

Jessica opened with a simple: “What.”

“I need you to do some reconnaissance,” Jeri said. Niceties and small talk were not Jeri’s style, either. “A student group on campus. Students for a Better Tomorrow. Just formed one or two years ago, maybe around 2004. Their activities speak of a much larger budget than a student group should have - I’m thinking an outside funding source. And their group’s name is turning up from some of the New York vampires we’ve been interrogating. Something is off. Look into it.”

“Will do,” Jessica answered.

“Sooner rather than later, Jessica,” Jeri told her, and hung up.

Jessica shook her head to herself. Jeri was supposed to be her mentor, her guide, not only when it came to Jessica’s skillset and mission, but for life in general. But Jeri had very little regard for Jessica’s outside life. To Jeri, Jessica was a weapon to be deployed when needed. Anything that got in the way of that was to be swept aside.

Jessica burned with resentment over the way Jeri could give a fuck if Jessica failed all her classes. She gritted her teeth, thought some words at Jeri in her head.

At the same time, Jessica had zero desire to go back to biology class. She headed back to her room to start internet digging.

\--

Jessica keyed in the code for Stokes Hall, her dorm, and snarled at the crucifix on the wall in the hallway. _Stupid Catholic college._ She threw her beat-up, black leather jacket on her desk chair and opened up her laptop. Her roommate Lucy Cage was there, wearing a grey hoodie and track pants. She was throwing a water bottle into her backpack.

“Hey,” Lucy offered by way of greeting.

“Hi, Lucy.” They never exchanged many words, and Lucy seemed on her way out. But Jessica turned in her chair on an impulse. “Say, you know anything about Students for a Better Tomorrow?”

Lucy sniffed. “Nah. Just another bunch of sheltered white kids with a crush on Ayn Rand or something.” She gave Jessica a flat look. “Why - you thinking of joining?”

“Fuck, no,” Jessica said immediately. “I just, uh… I’m doing a piece on them for the student newspaper.”

Lucy turned to face her fully. “You work for the Saint Jo Weekly?”

“Freelancing,” Jessica said. That wasn’t really a lie; she still could write something and submit it, in theory. Lucy waited expectantly, clearly waiting for more information. “I’m, um, trying to untangle rumors that they’re connected with an outside white supremacist group.” She cringed inwardly. Would that make Lucy ask even more questions?

“Shit, wouldn’t be surprised,” Lucy said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

Jessica got up. “Wait. Why do you say that?” She called, stopping Lucy from leaving the room. “Why would you think that?”

Lucy sighed. “Yeah, yeah, you think I’m seeing imaginary racism,” she began, her face hardening.

“No, that’s – that’s not what I meant,” Jessica faltered. “I mean, what is it about the group exactly, what signs did you pick up on?”

“I don’t know,” Lucy said. “I don’t have definitive proof or anything like that. They’re just creepy as fuck. You know,” she added, “the student activities fair is going on right now, if you really want to check out the libertarian scene. I was thinking of stopping by on the way to the gym.” She shrugged one shoulder, looked like she is considering. “…You wanna come?”

It wasn’t the warmest invitation. And Jessica was not the warmest person. Liked to operate solo, mostly. Kind of hated people. But Lucy was her roommate; they will have to spend the rest of the academic year practically on top of each other. She should try to get to know her, at least a little.

And she did want to check out that activities fair.

“Alright,” she agreed, getting her jacket.

\--

Tables were set up all around North Quad, with colorful posters, balloons, bowls of candy, and other sad attempts to draw the attention of the students milling around. St. Josephine College wasn’t very big, about two thousand students. From the look of it, Jessica thought that student groups must be numerous enough for every five students on campus to have their own group.

She quickly moved past a shocking number of a cappella groups, looking for the political club section. Was Students for a Better Tomorrow a political club, even? Lucy seemed to think they were libertarians. Jessica looked around for Lucy, but Lucy had wandered off to check out the Black Student Association table. She was shaking hands with the person behind the table, a woman a little older than them wearing a smart skirt-suit, possibly the group’s faculty advisor.

Jessica found herself standing between the tables for the Queer-Straight Alliance and the Saint Jo Weekly. A curvy girl with an upturned nose and mid-length, dirty-blond hair was staffing the Queer-Straight Alliance table, and was chatting with a lanky, pretty Saint Jo Weekly representative. Jessica picked up a QSA informational brochure and flipped it over idly, mostly to look like she was doing something while she surreptitiously checked out the Saint Jo table. And the lanky girl staffing it. She was wearing a flattering gray dress, had longer, blonder hair than her friend, and was laughing happily at whatever Curves was currently joking about. Curves, for her part, had that loose-tie, untucked-dress-shirt look going on, like a member of an indy band. She grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear when Lanky Gray laughed. After a moment they both quieted down, noticing Jessica standing there.

“Sorry, dude! Got caught up in conversation. Welcome to the Queer-Straight Alliance!” Curves said. “I’m Foggy.” She extended a hand.

Jessica took it cautiously. “Jessica,” she replied, “Jessica Jones. What kind of a name is Foggy?”

Lanky Gray snorted. “Well, it says Francesca Nelson on my birth certificate,” Foggy admitted. “But everyone calls me Foggy. Long story. Anyway, I would be delighted to tell you more about our group, if you want.” She ticked off letters on her fingers. “It’s for L-G-B-T-Q-A-I, all the everybody, plus straight allies… So we figured QSA was easier. We have our general meetings on Wednesday nights in the Intercultural Center. And social events once a month. There’s a calendar in the brochure. We’re doing an ‘80s night party this weekend. Should be awesome!”

They both smiled at Jessica, doing their best to be friendly, which was kind of sad. _Friendly is wasted on me,_ Jessica thought. “Um, that’s great. I’m… I’m not sure which groups I want to join yet, just checking everything out.” _Damn. That sounded stupid._ Or, kind of sounded like she was still “questioning” or something, which she was definitely not. Jessica had known she was gay since she was eleven.

“Cool, cool, take your time, happy to help in any way possible,” Foggy said. “I like your jacket.”

“Thanks,” Jessica said. “I’ll, uh. Take this, if that’s okay?” She held up the brochure.

“Of course! That’s what they’re there for, man. Hope to see you at the ‘80s night. This is Karen, by the way.”

Lanky Gray extended her hand. “Hi. Karen Page.”

“Great to meet you,” Jessica said, shaking Karen’s hand. She looked around the display of information about the Saint Jo Weekly. “So, what kind of stuff do you guys write about in this thing?” She asked, picking up a sample copy from a stack on the table. “I mean, in a school this small… What really happens?” Jessica was testing Karen, feeling her out. Jessica knew full well there were all kinds of interesting, disturbing things happening at this school. Involving demonic activity. That was what she was here for, after all. But she doubted the student newspaper knew anything about any of it.

“More than you think,” Karen said, her face taking on a hard look. “The clashes between the pro-Palestine and the pro-Israel student groups. The Environmental Action Coalition trying to get the campus administration to set a timeline for shutting down the coal plant. The fact that Cornelia Stokes funds practically the entire college. We writers do fluff pieces, sure, but we also do some real journalism.”

“Cornelia Stokes?” Jessica asked. “As in, Stokes Hall, the dorm?”

“Yeah, rich alumna,” Foggy offered. “She donates tons of money to the college. There’s a joke around campus that they’re going to have to re-name it Stokes College pretty soon.”

“Right,” Karen said, laughing, “Stokes College. Oh god.” Foggy looked absurdly pleased. It didn’t take strong observation skills to see that Foggy was into this girl, and her flirting might have been working somewhat. Jessica backed off any thoughts or ideas she might have been having about Karen. Which were none. Jessica hated people and didn’t want to get involved with anybody.

“Huh,” Jessica said. “Interesting. I’ll keep my eye on that story. You two know where the booth for Students for a Better Tomorrow is at?”

Foggy gestured. “I think it’s over there, next to the table for the Catholic Students Association. But, you don’t really want to join them, do you?”

“Why, what’s wrong with them?” Jessica inquired. “I don’t really know anything about them. I was just curious what they were all about.”

Karen frowned. “They’re kind of an activist group, I guess, but they have odd ideas. About the college, about Philadelphia, how they think it should be improved. They claim to be different than just another Young Republicans-type group, but I’m skeptical.”

“Gonna do a story about them, maybe?” Jessica asked.

“Maybe,” Karen said. “If you join them, will you let me interview you?”

“Maybe,” Jessica said, thinking: _Snowball’s chance in hell I’m joining any groups, Blondie_. “Nice meeting both of you, see you around.” She stalked off.

\--

“She seemed nice,” Foggy said, after the gruff, dark-haired girl in the motorcycle jacket and ripped jeans left.

Karen stared at Foggy. “Are you kidding me?”

Foggy shrugged. “Maybe she was having a bad day. Give people a chance, Karen!”

Karen nodded and didn’t say anything. But her journalist-sense was tingling. Something was definitely fishy with Students for a Better Tomorrow, Karen knew that. And there was something off about that Jessica Jones and her interest in that group. Karen would keep her ears and eyes open about both.

\--

Jessica spotted the Students for a Better Tomorrow table at last, but Lucy spotted her first, and came over. “Hey. You find anything interesting?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah, maybe. You?”

“I don’t know,” Lucy said. “I’m not really into chess, or birdwatching, or a cappella.”

“God, _so_ much a cappella at this college,” Jessica groaned in agreement, happy to find a connection with Lucy. Maybe they had common ground in cynicism and misanthropy? “Yeah, you ask me, most of these groups are lame. Like this one.” She gestured to the Catholic Students Association table they were standing near. “We already go to _St. Josephine’s_. There are goddamn crucifixes in every building. Prayer masses in the dorms. Nuns everywhere. Who in the hell would want to join a Catholic _student_ group? Like we’re not all drowning in Catholic bullshit already?”

Lucy had said “uh” and made some subtle gestures during this rant, but Jessica did not understand their import - until a girl standing in front of the Catholic Students Association table, who’d been talking with the table’s staffer, turned slowly around, pointing a pissed-off expression at Jessica and clearing her throat loudly.

“What?” Jessica said to her flatly, hands outspread. “Are you Catholic? Did I offend you? I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” the stranger replied in a low, menacing voice, taking a step closer to Jessica. “So, you _don’t_ actually think my religion is bullshit?” She was about Jessica’s height, with short auburn hair and a pair of round red sunglasses; she had a white cane in her hand. She was wearing a snug black T-shirt under her red jacket, and Jessica noted impressive abs. The woman seemed ready to get in Jessica’s face. Jessica did not want to get into a fight in broad daylight, especially not with a blind person. Whatever issues this chick had, she probably didn’t deserve to become a smear on the pavement.

Jessica held up both palms. “Hey, man, you guys are the ones that believe in people rising from the dead and a bunch of other fairy tales,” she said. “The rest of us just don’t want it forced down our throats, is all.”

The woman smirked and shook her head. “You feel that way, and you choose to come to a Catholic college? Well. If you can’t deal with Catholicism all around you, good luck to you, friend. You’re either going to get used to it real fast, or you’re going to drop out.” She moved up even closer to Jessica, chin tilting up. Jessica stood her ground.

“Don’t let any holy water burn your skin,” the woman in red whispered to Jessica, her lips in a snarl. Then she turned on her heel and left, cane out in front of her, a swagger in her walk.

Jessica watched her go. “God, what a … _Dick_.”

“Yeah, that Maddie Murdock, sure is a charmer,” Lucy remarked dryly.

Jessica wheeled on her. “Wait. You _know_ her?”

“Not personally,” Lucy said. “She kind of has a reputation around here, though. Despite her personality flaws, she does a lot of good in the community. She heads a bunch of student organizations that help the homeless, take volunteer trips to the local orphanage… A lot of really good things.”

Jessica took one more look at the retreating Maddie.

“Nice ass, at least.”

\--

By the time Jessica got up to the Students for a Better Tomorrow table, the two staffers were packing up their posters and flyers.

“Hold on,” Jessica said. She held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Jessica. I was hoping—“

“Sorry, we were just cleaning up,” said one of the staffers with a tight smile. She was a pale Japanese woman with long hair tied back. She spoke with an accent.

The other student behind the table, white with short blond hair, held a flyer out to Jessica. “We’re having a party next weekend, though.”

The Japanese woman grabbed her compatriot’s hand and took the flyer. She smiled at Jessica again, then dropped the smile when addressing the white kid. “That’s by invitation only, Sara. Remember?”

“Oh,” Sara said, frowning. This was clearly news to Sara.

“Can I… Get an invitation?” Jessica said, trying to eyeball the information on the flyer, but the Japanese woman quickly turned it upside down on a stack, and packed them away into a box.

Sara looked Jessica up and down, then turned to her colleague. “What do you think, Nobuko? Can we invite her?”

Nobuko stared calmly at Jessica. “No,” she said. “She has not been initiated. Hurry up, now.” Sara jumped into action, throwing their display items into another box and her backpack. Jessica leaned over the table, trying to see the symbol printed on a pile of buttons, before Sara swept them into the box. Two square brackets, back to back, printed in red on a black background.

“Initiated, huh?” Jessica asked. “How do I become initiated?”

Nobuko finished packing, slung her backpack over her shoulder and the group’s tri-fold poster under her arm. “You?” she said to Jessica flatly. “You don’t.” She and Sara turned to leave.

Jessica knew she shouldn’t follow them. She could get more information through less blatant stalking at this point. She had two first names, a symbol. A party happening sometime during the weekend. She could work with this; it wasn’t a big school. She watched to see which direction the two girls headed in. East, toward the traffic circle and the rose garden. There was a set of small dorms behind the rose garden, dusty older buildings with names that predated even the philanthropy of Stokes, connected by stone paths. Likely one or both of them lived there.

She looked around for Lucy. She found her standing away from the crowds, scrolling through something on her phone. Jessica walked over.

Lucy glanced up. “You have fun with the libertarians?”

Jessica shook her head. “I see what you mean about the creep factor. Something is up with them. I’m definitely going to do some digging, see what I can find out for my story.” Her lie about working for the St. Jo Weekly was a good cover. “Headed to the dining hall for lunch?”

“Gym,” Lucy said. Lucy went to the gym all the time, Jessica had noticed. Maybe every day? It showed. Lucy was jacked, her broad shoulders fitting well on her tall frame. Jessica had no idea what Lucy did at the gym to get that way. Jessica was not one for gyms. Nowadays, most of her training was in the field, so to speak. In any case, she couldn’t work out around other people. A regular-looking, skinny girl like herself, able to do what she could do, lift what she could lift – it would call too much attention.

“Alright, well – enjoy,” Jessica said, giving her a wave. “While you do that, I’m going to go eat deep-fried things.”

Lucy gave a huff of a laugh as she walked south, towards the athletic complex. Maybe Jessica was growing on her a bit; Lucy might actually think Jessica was alright. It would be good to have an ally. And someone who could even help Jessica out with her investigations, under the cover of writing for the student newspaper.

Jessica headed to the dining hall for some French fries and breakfast cereal: easy fuel for the next few hours’ work.


	2. Chapter 2

Maddie was listening to a Latin textbook on headphones when Foggy entered their dorm room in Barton Hall. “Hey, missed you at lunch, girl,” she said, and slapped a wrapped sandwich on Maddie’s desk. “Brought you something. In case you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, Foggy,” Maddie said, touched. She pressed Pause on the audiobook app and started unwrapping the sandwich. She _was_ hungry; she’d hardly noticed until Foggy pointed it out.

Foggy sat on her bed and tore open a packet of small, hard candies. Skittles, by the smell of them. “I met a cute girl at the student activities fair,” Foggy told Maddie, bouncing on the bed a little. “A writer for the St. Jo Weekly. She’s joining us at dinner tonight.”

“Oh?” That sounded like happy news for Foggy. Foggy had hardly dated since her painful, unrequited crush on her classmate Marci Stahl, who was straight as an arrow. But then Maddie frowned: “Joining _us_? Don’t you want some time alone with her, if she’s so cute?”

“Well, I can’t skip out on eating with my roomie and B.F.F.,” Foggy said brightly. “Besides, she really wants to meet you. People kind of know about you – you know that.”

“Yeah,” Maddie grumbles. “I wish they didn’t.” Especially anyone who worked for the student newspaper. Just Maddie’s luck, the woman would probably ask a lot of annoying questions; maybe want to do a piece on her. It was imperative that Maddie stop attracting so much attention. The more people wondered about her, the more at risk her secrets would be. Of her sensory abilities, her martial arts skills - and her nighttime activities.

\--

As far as Maddie knew, she was the only one who knew the secret of St. Josephine College:  that it was lousy with demons. It was up to Maddie to keep that secret, by eradicating the scourge. It was up to her to protect the innocent students they fed on.

Maddie was ostensibly a St. Josephine student herself. She was officially enrolled, a sophomore, despite the fact that her grades and test scores had gotten her into Columbia, a more prestigious school. She was majoring in Classics, with a minor in Religious Studies. She took classes, she studied. But her real job was demon-hunting. It was part of the reason why Foggy was the only person Maddie allowed herself to be close to. Hanging around Maddie would be a danger to anybody. And Maddie’s chosen profession could not become a known thing.

Foggy was the best friend Maddie had ever had. Maddie hadn’t exactly been popular in high school, blind and nerdy and a little awkward. Growing up in a series of institutions and foster homes, after her dad died when she was nine, had robbed her of some of the usual socialization most children had access to. She got enough shit without anyone knowing she was gay. She’d stayed firmly in the closet all through high school, figured out the most nondescript ways to dress and move so that nobody would guess one way or the other.

The day she started college, though, Maddie had all her long hair cut off. She was so sick of it, and sick of hiding, at least that facet of herself.

When she first met Foggy, her freshman roommate, Maddie was a little taken aback by how friendly she was. Foggy complimented her new hair, asked if she worked out (“kickboxing,” Maddie answered; not a lie, just not the full truth), and invited her to Foggy’s favorite café, all in the first five minutes. Foggy was open about being gay from the start, like it was no big deal. Maddie was not used to being able to just talk about it. But Foggy’s warmth and openness were infectious. Maddie found herself mentioning her own sexual orientation in a roundabout, oblique way one evening over dinner freshman year.

“You don’t have to be so quiet and shy about it,” Foggy had said. She threw her arms wide. “This is a women’s college. Half the student body is queer.”

Maddie scoffed, but she was smiling. “I’m sure it isn’t that high a percentage.”

“Whatever,” Foggy said dismissively, “if it isn’t, it should be – we should do a better job of recruiting. I personally won’t rest until St. Josephine College is a world-renowned lesbian paradise.”

Maddie laughed. This was what was so great about Foggy. Her carefree sense of humor, but especially the support behind it, the non-judgment - things Maddie didn’t have to worry about trying to keep, and whether they would go away.

“Anyway,” Foggy had continued, “I am pretty sure even _more_ than fifty percent of the student body wants to bang you. By which I mean, I would put good money down that you would have no problems seducing straight girls if you wanted, with that superhuman hotness you’ve got going on. You could have your pick, girlfriend.”

At the time, Maddie protested these statements, face burning hot. Foggy was prone to embarrassing exaggeration. Plus, something felt a little too electric about her best friend (and roommate!) talking about how hot she was. Electric as in dangerous, as in the warning signs leading to sin. Or at least, to hurt.

Within a month, however, Foggy’s statements about seducing straight girls had proven correct. Except that it was actually the other way around: A straight girl seduced Maddie.

Maddie was a caterer at a faculty party the night she met Elektra Natchios. The party was in honor of a very decorated, admired new visiting professor of philosophy, who had been awarded a fancy endowed chair appointment. Maddie had found out, though, that the professor was a well-disguised lich that was secretly preying on philosophy students. Maddie had gotten the catering gig specifically in order to do reconnaissance, so that later she could stalk the lich-professor and take him out.

Before Maddie could get a bead on the lich, though, she was being sidelined by the most alluring woman she had ever met. Elektra singled Maddie out, commanded her attention, and verbally fenced with her until Maddie was entranced. She was almost too distracted in the ensuing weeks to do her duty and take care of the lich.

For a while, Maddie followed Elektra everywhere. Maddie abandoned her usual caution and accompanied Elektra on a series of riskier and riskier adventures. Elektra, too, was a master of martial arts, and she quickly discovered Maddie’s secret skills. They sparred together, pulling no punches, getting a strange thrill out of roughing each other up. Maddie’s first experiences with drugs, alcohol, and sex were with Elektra. Elektra took Maddie’s hand and guided her into a world of debauchery, and after a life of abstention and penance, Maddie was hungry for it.

Elektra was also into revenge, though, and that was where she lost Maddie. Elektra was the one who found out which student was responsible for the homophobic messages that had appeared on peoples’ dorm room doors, and chalked on the campus paths. Elektra captured her and presented her to Maddie, tied up.

“This is your chance to teach her a lesson,” Elektra had said to Maddie, smiling with satisfaction.

Maddie only did things like that to demons, not people. Mostly. Anyway, vengeance like that didn’t jive with Maddie’s values. Maddie hated the girl, but she let her go. She tried and failed to explain her actions to Elektra, because she could hardly explain them to herself. They fought about it, and Elektra did not understand, did not forgive her.

Then Elektra met a boy, and that was that. Elektra suddenly treated Maddie as if she had been an experiment, a lark.

Maddie had not yet recovered. It was beyond heartbreak. It was utterly demeaning, it was a re-writing of history Maddie could do nothing about.

Through all of this, though, Foggy was there. A steady, caring presence. Always willing to listen, even if Maddie didn’t feel like talking. Maddie never had to drink alone.

\--

Maddie made her way over towards the sound of Foggy’s voice calling her, and her enhanced hearing traced the outline of a stately woman with long, soft hair standing up to shake her hand as Maddie put her tray down on the table.

“Karen Page,” said the woman. “Such an honor to finally meet the infamous Maddie Murdock.” Maddie sensed her smirk.

“You mean, the _famous_ Maddie Murdock,” Foggy said, as Maddie murmured something about what a pleasure it was and shook Karen’s hand. Warm and soft, long fingers. Up close, Maddie could make out the shape of her lips and eyes. Her smell was intriguing, and her heart and breathing picked up for a moment at Maddie’s touch, though her body language was all professional, and her face was arranged in detached interest.

They sat down. “I guess my reputation precedes me,” Maddie said with a smile, picking at her curried tofu and vegetables. It was always hard to eat in the cafeteria, assaulted by the smells of everyone else’ food, the trash bins, and the repulsive old spilled beverages in the conveyer belt. Dinner was usually more a time to hang out with Foggy than anything else.

“Well, yeah,” Karen replied. “Fronting the student Habitats for Humanity chapter; organizing the soup kitchen volunteers… Your service work in the community helped publicize the lead contamination in Chester all over campus, too. My co-worker at the St. Jo Daily did a story on that, but she only found out about it thanks to you.”

Maddie felt herself flush. “You did your homework.”

“Well, Karen is an investigative journalist,” Foggy offered, and Maddie sensed Foggy turning to Karen with a beaming expression.

“Learning to be one,” Karen corrected, humbly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Beth Urich is an amazing mentor.”

“Professor Urich is the faculty advisor to the newspaper,” Foggy explained.

“So, Karen,” Maddie asked, “What are you writing about now?”

Karen titled her head to the side. “I’ve got a couple ideas I’m mulling over. I just got a tip today about that group, Students for a Better Tomorrow.”

“What about it?” Maddie asked, interested. She had never heard of them, but then again, she hadn’t heard of most student organizations she didn’t actively seek out information about. Flyers and chalkings around campus were seldom posted in Braille.

“They’re a bunch of fascists or something,” Foggy interjected.

“We don’t know that,” Karen said. “Not yet, anyway. They’re vaguely right-wing, I think, and they’re just mysterious and weird. That’s why I was hoping to find out more. …But I was also thinking of maybe doing a piece on you.”

“On _me_?” Maddie said, raising her eyebrows. “Just because I do some volunteer work—“

“—I want to know,” Karen interrupted, “With all that, why people call you ‘the Madwoman’.”

Maddie stopped, her mouth open. That was a nickname used in certain demon circles around campus. No student had ever called her that. How did Karen know that name?

“They do?” Foggy asked, confused, and Maddie laughed to cover up her initial reaction. “That’s really funny,” Maddie said. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Just, around,” Karen replied, innocently, with a shrug.

“That seems kinda... Insulting?” Foggy offered, and Maddie sensed her frown.

“I have no idea why people would call me that,” Maddie said carefully, but she could tell from Karen’s body that Karen was skeptical. Maddie wasn’t a very good liar, but at least she could tell when her lies weren’t working.

“Well, dude, you _are_ a little crazy,” Foggy said warmly, nudging Maddie in the side with her elbow, and taking another bite of spaghetti.

Maddie laughed. “ _Thanks_ , Foggy!” she said sarcastically, making it into a joke, and managed to change the subject after that.

They chatted on as they ate. It seemed to Maddie that Karen was responding positively to Foggy’s gentle flirting, but Karen kept turning her attention back to Maddie. Maddie could sense the heat in her face when Maddie spoke to her; could practically feel Karen’s eyes boring into her. It could mean one of two things. One, Karen was more into Maddie than she was into Foggy – which made Maddie feel guilty and intrigued at the same time. Two, Karen was curious – way too curious. Karen the investigative-journalist-in-training wanted to know more about Maddie, find out how she ticked. That led down a path Maddie didn’t want anyone on.

On top of all that, the ‘Madwoman’ epithet. Where in the hell had Karen heard that?

It didn’t bode well. Karen herself was not a demon – Maddie could tell a demon a block away from their inhuman heartbeats or lack thereof, their alien scents. But humans had been known to consort with demons, to aid and abet them. More than once, Maddie had detained or even roughed up humans involved in demonic activity, getting information from them, getting them to the attention of law enforcement when needed.

Maddie made a mental note to keep tabs on Karen Page.

\--

Karen was definitely a bonus in terms of Maddie’s necessary sneaking, however. Maddie convinced Foggy and Karen to go to a showing of Pretty in Pink that the film club was putting on as part of their Vintage Series, and begged out herself, saying she had too much studying to do.

It was tricky sometimes, making up excuses to her ever-watchful roommate for being out late almost every night. Maddie’s go-to explanation was studying in the library, but sometimes Foggy wanted to come along, and Maddie had to find a way to lose her. Once, after Maddie lied that she had pulled an all-nighter, Foggy told Maddie she’d been at the library herself, and hadn’t seen her. “Alright, you sex machine,” Foggy said, breaking into a grin. “Out with it. You hooked up with someone, didn’t you?”

Maddie let her mouth quirk and ducked her head. She didn’t have to work that hard to feign embarrassment, and she got out of it that time. The continuing late nights just solidified Foggy’s idea that Maddie was a total ladies’ lady. In actuality, between schoolwork and volunteering and patrolling, Maddie had barely enough time for sleep, much less dating.

This night, though, worked out like a dream. Maddie had set up her best friend with someone likeable and charming – if potentially a little questionable in her associations. (One date couldn’t hurt, though, right?) And, killing two birds with one stone, Maddie had freed herself up to suit up and go out on patrol.

At St. Josephine’s College, Maddie had found that it didn’t take a lot of waiting and listening – this time, on the roof of the Astronomy Department’s observatory – before evidence of evil turned up. She waited on the roof, in her body armor and mask. After just twenty minutes or so of listening, Maddie picked up two voices screaming in the outdoor amphitheater. This had happened before. The amphitheater was a popular late-night make-out spot. Distracted couples were easy pickings for vampires and other demons.

Maddie sprang into action. She used brick footholds to get to a windowsill and vaulted to the ground, then sprinted toward the amphitheater. She approached the wooded area that hugged the amphitheater and extended back behind campus, which students referred to as Grace Woods – whether a Catholic reference or the name of some long-ago caretaker, nobody knew. The scene that unfolded in her senses was a little unusual. Instead of a vampire or two feeding on victims, a hooded figure stood holding the leashes for three snarling hellhounds, menacing one of the screaming girls while fire licked out of their eye sockets. Another hooded figure was busy tying up the hands of the other girl, who slumped dazed or unconscious against a tree. The unconscious girl’s mouth was open, and Maddie recognized a tang of metal in her breath as a set of braces she was wearing. The hooded figure placed something over the girl’s head, which, from sound and smell, was a burlap sack.

Maddie ran stealthily toward the figure with the hounds and, just as it started to turn toward her, delivered a kick to its leg designed to blow out a knee. The figure went down, moving weakly on the ground. The hellhounds immediately dropped their prey (who ran, whimpering) and turned to attack Maddie. Maddie had never trained in combat against animals, but a demon was a demon, and blunt force to the head worked on most things. She rolled out of the way of a hound’s jaws launching at her throat; tripped another one. They were all on her, but she gave one a good kick to the gut and sent it flailing away wheezing, making the other two draw back a little. Maddie used their moment of hesitation to flip herself in the air and bring her elbow down hard on one of their heads. It made an infernal grunt, and the fire shot further out of its empty eye-holes, singeing the armor on Maddie’s arm bad enough that her skin felt the burn. Maddie drew back into a fighter’s crouch as the beast shook its head, stumbling. She looked up and saw the other hooded figure dragging the unconscious girl away into the woods.

“You. Stop,” Maddie growled after the figure, and it looked back over its shoulder. The hellhound-wielder went to its aid and picked up the feet of their limp victim. Maddie started after them, but the uninjured hellhound leaped at her back, demanding her attention. Maddie dodged and did a spin kick, but she only made contact with one of the thing’s front legs. It knocked her to the ground and went for her throat. Maddie punched it in the muzzle as its claws dug into her leg and her shoulder, tearing her body armor, but that only bought her a second of time; it was lunging again, going in for the kill. There was only so much Maddie’s armor could do for her. To make things worse, another human heartbeat was closing in.

Suddenly, with a yowl, the hellhound twisted and jerked and fell to the ground, half on top of Maddie. Maddie felt its flames licking into her and struggled out from under it, rolling away to all fours. A tall, skinny woman stood over the burning hound, panting, heartbeat fast. Maddie took a moment to place her smell signature: it was unmistakably that offensive chick who’d been insulting Catholicism from the Activities Fair. Who had just taken out a hellhound?

“What in the name of all beverages over 80 proof…” the offensive chick began.

There was no time. Maddie got herself upright, disregarding the gashes in her leg and shoulder, and tried to run into the woods in the direction of the hooded figures – she could still pick up their sounds – but something bad had happened to her left knee in the fight with the hellhound, and she hissed in pain with the first few steps.

A hand landed on her shoulder, accompanied by offensive-chick’s voice. “Hey, who the hell are y-“ Maddie grabbed the hand and spun, getting the woman’s arm in a lock. She wouldn’t break her elbow, not this time. She just had to let this girl know she had better things to do.

Maddie found herself slamming hard into the ground, on her back. She blinked in surprise.

“What the fuck, you psychopath!” the skinny woman spat.

Maddie got over her surprise, and forced herself up, wincing. “Listen, I don’t know who you are, or how you did that,” Maddie breathed, “but they’re getting away, and they’ve got a victim. You need to stop interfering and let me do my job, or people are going to get hurt.”

The woman made some huffs and splutters that Maddie disregarded. Maddie turned and made her way toward where the hooded duo had gone, moving at a hobbled jog, impeded now by her knee as well as her bruised back. The woman caught up to her easily.

“Let you do _your_ job, _excuse_ me?”

“Yes,” Maddie panted, scanning for heat signatures, for sounds. “I’m a demonhunter, if you hadn’t figured that out. You’d be wise to run in the other direction.”

“And what the fuck do you think _I_ am?” the woman cried.

It was a good question – someone who could flip Maddie onto her back, who could hit a hellhound that hard - but Maddie wasn’t going to ponder that now. Maddie stopped and scented the air, picked out the pattern of broken branches littering the ground. This could be their trail, but she wasn’t sure anymore.

“Hey. Asshole. I just saw the same thing you saw. A couple of likely vampires, taking their hellhounds out for a walk, capturing and dragging away a civilian. This is _my_ job. And believe me, I can track them a whole lot better than I’m sure you can.”

“You’re also a demonhunter,” Maddie muttered, letting instincts guide her forward.

“A-plus for you,” said the woman. “A better one. Maybe you’re the one who should stop _interfering_?” Her path diverged from Maddie’s slightly as she continued crashing through the underbrush.

Maddie stopped again to listen. She made out the faint sound of two sets of footsteps through the brush, the grunts and breathing of the figures struggling with the weight of the passed-out student. The other demonhunter was correct; Maddie had been heading the wrong direction. She switched course and followed.

But the other demonhunter had picked up speed, and Maddie could not keep up, even ignoring her hurt knee to move at a regular pace. Chick was fast. Maybe superhumanly fast. Sure made a lot of noise, though. Maddie gritted her teeth. There would be no element of surprise; if the hooded figures had somewhere to hide, they would.

Of course, anything with a heartbeat, breath, or a smell usually had trouble hiding from Maddie.

Maddie caught up to the other demonhunter in the little clearing, deep in Grace Woods by the creek, that students called Jo-Henge, after the rough-cut blocks of stone set in a circle that, according to campus legend, simply appeared there one night in the 1970s. Teams of tipsy students, it was assumed, were behind it. Maddie had a few guesses as to the stones’ real origin. Vibrations and a pull of heat too subtle for normal senses to detect suggested a nexus of power in the center of the circle. Not to mention the number of demonic rituals Maddie had disrupted happening there.

Nobody was there now, though, except the panting demonhunter. “Lost ‘em,” she growled.

Maddie cocked her head, listening, scenting. She got a whiff of shampoo, probably the victim’s, trailing into the middle of the circle of stones. Beyond that, nothing. It was like the three of them had vanished into thin air.

“They were here, though,” Maddie said.

“How do you kn—you know what, never mind, I’m sure you’d rather keep your superpowers to yourself,” the demonhunter said. Maddie’s skin prickled as she sensed the woman looking her up and down. “Horns? Cute. What is that, camouflage?”

Maddie felt her face go hot in her mask, but ignored the question. “What do you know about them?” She demanded.

She sensed the woman shrugging. “Nothing. Never seen a hellhound on campus before. There’s some shit I’m looking into, but I have no idea if these assholes were connected in any way.”

“What kind of shit?”

“I don’t really know yet,” she replied, and Maddie heard the signature of a lie in her heartbeat, smelled her sweat response on her palms.

They were quiet for a moment. Maddie sized her up. Noted that the smell and _feel_ of her was just a little different from run-of-the-mill human. She was sure the other demonhunter was sizing her up the same way, using sight.

“You’re a student here,” Maddie muttered, and narrowly missed adding a “too”. Best not to let on anything about herself.

She sensed the woman’s single, slow nod. “Yeah. And you?”

“I’m no one,” Maddie replied, too quickly. “I’m a ghost.” With that, she sprang up into a nearby tree and disappeared into its branches. The hooded figures had somehow vanished here; they might have to return here. Maddie got comfortable. She was willing to wait. And her new friend down on the ground – well, she could do as she pleased.

“What the _fuck_?” Swearing seemed to be what she pleased. “Where did you go?”

Maddie considered not responding. Would the woman just go away if she was quiet long enough? “I’m going to stake them out,” she finally called down.

A sigh came from below. “Suit yourself,” she answered. “I doubt they’ll even come back this way, but, whatever. I’m going to track them down my way.” She walked backwards a few steps away from Maddie’s tree, sending some kind of sarcastic salute up at her. “Good luck, man. See you when I see you.” And she turned and was off.

\--

Nothing and nobody showed up, all night. Maddie stayed as alert as she could in her tree branch, waking herself up when she dozed, back wedged against the trunk. She climbed down just before dawn, wincing as she stretched. A night in a tree had done her knee injury no favors. She might actually have to get it looked at. Not to mention the cuts in her shoulder and leg.

Maddie had Spanish Literature that morning, but she would skip. She had disinfectant and gauze hidden in her closet to clean up her wounds before getting a couple of hours of sleep. She would have to hide her injuries from Foggy as best she could, come up with an excuse. As she had so many times before.


	3. Chapter 3

Watching that passed-out girl get dragged off had not been a good moment for Jessica. She’d kept it together at the time for the sake of tracking her quarry. And for not looking weak in front of her mysterious rival, ridiculous as those horns might have been. But she had beat a retreat after the hooded figures had vanished, and not only because she highly doubted they’d let themselves be found again that night. She’d felt the panic coming on.

She woke up the next morning tangled in sweaty sheets, unsure for a moment where she was. She felt the bile rising in her throat. She had the room to herself, and she knew she needed them. The names.

“Bedford,” she muttered. “Cecil. Warwick. Seymour.” A couple more repetitions, rocking with her knees held against her chest. It was better, then; it was close. She just needed a little bit more help. She dug out the flask she kept under her mattress, unscrewed it, and took a pull. The pain of it in her throat, the burn through her veins felt like relief, because they signified the dulling that was about to wash over her brain.

One more pull off the flask, and Jessica sighed. She ran a hand through her hair and got out of bed to pull on the same jeans she had worn the previous day, left in a pile on the floor. It was time to get to work.

\--

The nice thing about going to a small liberal arts school that was stuck in the Dark Ages was how they still, ridiculously, kept pen-and-paper files for some things. Jessica was supposed to be in biology class right now, but instead she was making a phone call to the admin manning the desk in the Student Activities Office, pretending to be someone from the Registrar who needed help with something. She watched the woman head down the long hallway of the main building – the Registrar’s office was all the way on the other end. Lucky for Jessica, the woman was careless, and left the door of her office open when she left. Another feature of a cloistered lib arts college. Nobody expected students to come in and steal stuff.

Jessica had maybe five minutes before the woman finished her confused exchange with the Registrar admin and headed back. She slipped in, found the file cabinet drawer for student groups she’d scoped out on a previous visit to the office, and rifled through until she found the Students for a Better Tomorrow folder. She quickly snapped pictures of the forms inside with her phone, put the file back, and shut the drawer. When she stuck her head out of the office door, she saw the administrative assistant coming down the hallway already. “Oh, so sorry,” the woman called from the other end of the hall. “I just stepped out for a minute. I’ll be right with you.” Damn. Jessica now needed a reason that she’d come by the office.

“Oh, um,” she began, as the woman jog-shuffled up to her in her flats and knee-length dress. “It’s alright, really. I was just wondering who I get in contact with about the... Catholic Students Association?” She cringed internally. Of all the groups she could have mentioned. Oh well. It certainly was furthest from the truth.

The two swallows of whisky still soothing her head got her through an awkward exchange with the admin, who fetched her a flyer from the same file drawer Jessica had just been rifling through.

Jessica dumped the CSA flyer in a recycling bin discretely as she moved down the length of the hallway, looking at the photos she’d taken in her phone to see who was listed as the primary contacts for Students for a Better Tomorrow. President, Treasurer: no names Jessica recognized, but now she had them for later. But then, the Secretary: _Nobuko Yoshioka_. Unless there were two Nobukos on campus, both in the same creepy student organization, that was her. The Japanese student at the table at the Student Activities Fair; the one who had snatched the flyer away, blown her off.

Jessica had two more tasks to do before she left the main building. The first one was a long shot, but she was already here, so she might as well. She headed to the student mail room.

Jessica waited for a pair of chatting students to get their mail and leave, pretending to open her own mailbox. When the coast was clear, she knelt on the floor by the box marked Yoshioka, in the bottom right corner of the wall of boxes, and picked it with a hairpin. She’d just got the lock to spring when she heard footsteps rounding the corner. She quickly pulled out the envelopes she found inside, shut the box, and walked away. She shoved the envelopes into her backpack; there’d be time to open them later. They might be nothing – letters from parents; junk mail - but any little bit of information could help.

Jessica made a mental note to crack into the mailbox of the president of the student group when she had a chance. Heading for the central stairway, she opened the photo of the application form in her phone again and squinted at it. _Sara Knowles_.

Wait a minute. Sara? That couldn’t be the newbie that Nobuko had been berating at the table at the fair, could it? She’d clearly been an underling. Would she have been listed as the president of the organization?

Maybe she was a front.

Or maybe Jessica was over-thinking it. There were a lot of Saras in the world.

She started out climbing the stairs like a regular human, just in case there was anyone around. The second and third floors of the main building had dorm rooms in them, and Jessica smelled the fruity shampoos from the communal bathrooms; yesterday’s sandalwood incense coming from the door covered in beads and culturally-appropriated Tibetan scarves. She paused on the third-floor landing. She heard nobody in range; everyone was in class, or whatever normal college students did. So she leaped lightly to the next landing.

The fourth floor had offices, both administrative and for student groups. Jessica took a moment to look at the directory posted in the hallway, and found her way to the offices of the St. Jo Weekly.

The door was unlocked (more lib arts college naiveté), and Jessica looked around. Four computer stations, a printer, a meeting table in the middle. A bookshelf with some journalism texts and stacks of back issues of the student paper. Jessica sat down at one of the computers. The last user that had logged in was _Stjoweekly_. Jessica could log in with her own student ID, but that would leave a trace. She thought a moment, then typed:

            GoLions

Nope. But she was willing to bet the password had something to do with their school’s incredibly dumb choice of mascot. Did the reference to Christians being eaten in arenas mean anything to the toolboxes that made these decisions? Trust the religious to do something as unintentionally ironic as picking Lions as a name for their sports teams.

Jessica went over to the bookshelf and picked up a recent copy of the paper. Under the masthead, in a smaller font, the inception date of this particular incarnation of the student paper was listed:

            _Bringing you essential campus knowledge since 1971_

Ah, yes. The illustrious beginnings of the paper during the Vietnam War protests, after the Kent State shooting. When students decided they needed a progressive voice and more muckraking in their student paper; tore down the old one and started over. Jessica had caught a bit of this history on the materials at the table staffed by Karen at the activities fair.

Well, the paper’s glory days of meaningful reporting were long gone, Jessica thought.

She sat down at the computer again.

            golions71

Lucky guess on the lowercase. That one got Jessica in.

She clicked through folders and found a number of articles in progress, final layouts for past issues and a close-to-final-draft for the issue they were about to send to print. Glancing at titles and skimming, Jessica didn’t find much of interest. Whatever Karen had claimed, most of this paper was fluff, at least compared to the shit that was really going on at this college. The writers for the St. Jo Weekly probably had no idea that the campus was a hotbed paranormal activity. Or if they did know, they were keeping it quiet.

Jessica stopped on one back-issue from a month ago. A student missing. Kimberly Stratton. Swim team. Tall, red hair, freckles, from her black-and-white picture and description in the text. No traces. Frantic parents; local police investigating, but without a lot of leads. Jessica flipped through the two issues of the paper that had come out since that, but found no follow-up.

Jessica was about to finish up and leave, but she clicked on one last folder and found the group’s meeting notes. Those could be fruitful. She opened up the file with the most recent date. Her eyes, scanning over the text, snagged on a familiar name: Karen Page. Karen, it seems, was pushing an idea to do a piece on Students for a Better Tomorrow. The idea was received with lackluster enthusiasm from the rest of the group, who encouraged Karen to focus on her other project, something they called the Madwoman piece.

Madwoman, huh? What was that about? Jessica read on. From how Karen was talking, the name seemed to refer to some kind of almost mythological figure on campus. Someone who came out at night. Someone (or something?) violent. Sounded a little like some students had made a demon sighting, but they were mis-identifying what exactly it was they’d seen.

The meeting notes went on to state that Karen was running into obstacles with her research for the Madwoman piece. A source that was not very cooperative, one Karen didn’t think she could win the trust of. So, Karen was seeing what she could find out from the source’s best friend.

That cinched it. Karen Page was an official Person of Interest in Jessica’s book. Whatever this Madwoman stuff was about, it sounded important. Even if it had nothing to do with the hooded figures and the kidnapping Jessica had witnessed the night prior, it smacked strongly of some kind of demonic involvement.

Jessica would track Karen Page, and see what else she could find out. Karen didn’t have any unfinished pieces or notes among the St. Jo Weekly’s files; maybe she was a little more cautious than some of the other students who wrote for the paper. But Jessica had her skillset, and she had Jeri’s resources if needed – her watcher was no slouch at hacking. Whatever Karen gleaned from her sources, Jessica would learn, too.

Jessica glanced at her phone as she logged off the computer. “Shit,” she mumbled to herself. She had to book it to her freshman writing seminar. It was one of the only classes she had where the professor actually took attendance. Jessica was trying not to miss that one too often. And making some attempt to stay awake during it.

It was passing time, and too many people were around outside to just jump down from the nearest window, so Jessica took the stairs again, two or three at a time, cursing all the way. A couple of passing students ogled her warily, but she didn’t have time to stop and tell them to fuck off. She picked up into a run when outside the building, careful to calibrate it to look like a regular person’s sprint.

She was only a minute late to class; the professor hadn’t called her name yet. Jessica breathed out with relief. After raising her hand at her name, she dug the two envelopes from Nobuko’s mailbox out of her backpack, and tried to open them without drawing too much attention to herself.

One had an invoice from a custom t-shirt order. A schematic of the design that had been ordered was shown: red square brackets, back to back, one on top of the other. The same design that Jessica had seen on Students for a Better Tomorrow’s buttons at the activities fair. A note was included.

> Hey! I went ahead and ordered the t-shirts, since we have so much extra budget. I know you said t-shirts weren’t needed, but I think they would be nice for morale! I hope you’re not mad.
> 
> Sara

Sara’s full name was included in the invoice as the person who placed the order: Sara Knowles. Huh. It did seem that the president of the club deferred quite a bit to the secretary. Interesting.

The other envelope was on official stationary from the President of the college. The letter inside was signed by Mariah Dillard herself.

> Dear Nobuko Yoshioka,
> 
> Congratulations! Your student organization, Students for a Better Tomorrow, has been selected for funding from the Cornelia Stokes Student Leadership Award. In addition to your usual yearly budget, your organization’s account will receive $5000.00 for the current academic year (AY 2006-2007).
> 
> As President, I am sincerely proud of the vision and accomplishments of this ambitious organization. You truly are preparing the world for a brighter future.
> 
> Keep up the good work.
> 
> Best wishes,
> 
> Prof. Mariah Dillard
> 
> President, St. Josephine College

Jessica’s eyebrows knitted together as she let the information sink in. She wasn’t sure what was usual, but five G’s seemed like a stupidly high amount of money for a student organization – what did student groups do, have pizza parties and have t-shirts printed? Why in the fuck would they need five thousand dollars?

And what was Students for a Better Tomorrow doing that got the attention of the President of the college herself?

This seemed important enough intel for Jessica to pass on to Jeri. Especially if they needed to start snooping around the files of President Dillard. Jessica would need back-up for that.

She itched to step out of the class and make the call, but just then, the professor began describing a small-group activity they were about to do. Oh god. Interacting with other humans. Jessica inhibited her groan and eye-roll with a massive force of will. She got out her phone to send Jeri a quick text.

            Pres dillard gave SBT $5K for some reason

To Jessica’s consternation, the professor put them in small groups, where they were to give constructive criticism to each other on their _Great Gatsby_ essays. Jessica was doing her best to keep her mouth shut (she figured _this book is dumb, and your essay sucks_ would not be considered constructive) when her phone buzzed. Jeri had replied.

            Ceremony to open new wing of PAC tmrw. Scope out M.D. I’ll see what I can find out.

Ooh. A ribbon-cutting ceremony Jessica now had to attend. Well, that was the life of a demonhunter, she supposed. Mind-crushing boredom interrupted occasionally with violence.

\--

Maddie sighed as she climbed into bed early in the morning. Whoever that victim had been, she was in trouble. She pushed away the thought that by now she might not be alive.

Maddie suspected that there was some kind of demonic portal near Jo-Henge. She needed to figure out how it opened, follow someone through. Or just stake it out and wait until another hooded figure appeared. Anyone involved with them, whoever they were, Maddie would start somewhere and get information. Find the next person, and get more information. Maddie could be very persuasive.

They would be unlikely to use the portal in daylight, however. Maddie could take a couple of hours of rest.

The next thing Maddie was aware of was Foggy’s alarm was going off. By the sound of it, it was Foggy’s third and final alarm: Foggy jumped out of bed swearing and started throwing on clothes. Maddie rolled over to face her.

“Hope I didn’t wake you up earlier.” Maddie had tried to dress her wounds as quietly as possible.

“Nah, you know I sleep like a log,” Foggy said. “Don’t you have a class that started, uh… Half an hour ago?”

“Not going,” Maddie said. She heard Foggy take in breath to speak, maybe to ask if she was okay, or tease her for some supposed sexual conquest, so Maddie beat her to the punch: “How was your date with Karen?”

“Fun. She’s dreamy,” Foggy sighed, stuffing notebooks and snacks into her backpack.

Maddie pressed her lips together. “Well, you do like blondes.”

Foggy stopped and looked at Maddie for a moment. _Shit,_ why had she done that, why would she make even an oblique reference to Marci? Maddie was an idiot.  

But Foggy came over to her bed and ruffled her hair. “ _And_ brunettes… _And_ red-heads,” she said in a joking tone. “Blue and purple hair is good, too. Anyway, I don’t think she’s into me. All she did before the movie, and after the movie and in quiet parts of the movie, was ask me questions about you.”

Maddie stiffened. “Like what? What did you tell her?”

Foggy made a groan and a head movement that told Maddie she was probably rolling her eyes. “Don’t worry,” she said sarcastically. “I didn’t give away any of your secrets. Anyway, talk more later. I gotta run.”

\--

Maddie got up and showered in time for her shift at the community soup kitchen, because that she couldn’t skip out of, unlike class. Her volunteer work was her responsibility.

That night, she suited up and staked out Jo-Henge again, from up in her tree perch. Around midnight, she heard someone approach, but from behind, coming from the direction of the amphitheater. It was a woman - young, with a scent and heartbeat Maddie recognized, but could not place. The woman moved slowly through the woods, wandering a bit, as if she was a bit lost, or looking for something. Maddie automatically got still, schooled her breathing to near-silence, to prevent detection.

The woman drew closer, until Maddie could place her: Karen Page. She held a small metal object in her hands. From the shape of it, Maddie identified it as a camera.

What was Karen doing in the woods at this time of night, with a camera? Late-night reporting gig? Seemed unlikely. Maybe Karen was involved with the sinister element on campus, after all. Maddie gritted her teeth in anger at herself for pushing Foggy into that movie date with her.

Before Maddie could decide how to react to Karen’s presence, though, another heartbeat was suddenly among them. Maddie turned her head, searching: someone was standing in the center of Jo-Henge who hadn’t been there before. Maddie heard the swish of the heavy cloak, smelled the wool. One of the hooded figures. She tensed and pounced from the tree, knocking the figure to the ground, causing her hurt knee to protest. Karen was too close – within earshot, at the very least – but Maddie had to take the risk. She couldn’t let the person in the hood get away.

She was a smallish woman – fully human, not demonic in any way, and not very strong compared to Maddie, so Maddie overpowered her easily. “Who are you, and who do you work for?” Maddie growled immediately.

“Nobody – no one!” The girl squeaked. “I’m just walking in the woods! Jeez, get _off_ me!”

Maddie held both her wrists in one hand, curled the other one on her throat. “Two people in cloaks like yours took away an unconscious girl last night,” Maddie continued, hurriedly. “Colleagues of yours, right? Where did they take her?”

“I don’t know anything,” the girl panted. “So what, just ‘cause we were both wearing hoods?” She struggled in Maddie’s grip fruitlessly.

Maddie tightened her grip on the girl’s throat. “Please,” she choked. “Just let me go. I’m not important.”

“Not important to what?” Maddie demanded.

The girl made a _hkk_ sound. “Stu- students for… Better… T’morrow,” she choked.

Maddie’s ears pricked up, picking up leaf litter crunching: Karen’s footsteps cautiously approaching. She had to be quick.

“Where did they take her,” she hissed.

“To… The Pocket,” the girl managed, cringing. “The Pocket in Jo-Henge.”

“How do I get there?”

Suddenly, there were two more people in the middle of Jo-Henge, both of whom came running at Maddie. One, Maddie’s size; regular, elevated human heartbeat; aimed a kick at Maddie’s head which she rolled out of the way of, letting go of her quarry in the process. The other, tall with broad shoulders, had a heartbeat that was not so human. Unnatural heat poured forth from her eyes, nostrils, and mouth as she opened it, and a stream of fire shot out of her mouth at Maddie. Maddie ducked and spun, feeling the heat of the flames lick across her shoulder blades. She got within range of the human one and took her down with an uppercut to the jaw. The demonic one did not seem willing to engage any further. She took off after the small girl Maddie had accosted, who was running, making whimpering noises of fear. The demon snaked out an arm around the girl’s waist, lifting her without effort under her arm, and made it back to the center of the circle of stones in two superhuman leaps. They both were gone instantly. Some kind of mystical portal, Maddie was sure of it now. To “the Pocket”.

A groan came from the prone form of the human woman Maddie had punched out. Maddie searched her pockets, finding a folded-up piece of paper. She secreted it away in a hidden pocket of her body armor just as she heard a camera shutter and flash.

The camera went off twice more as Maddie stalked up to Karen, snatched the camera, and broke it between her gloved hands. She dropped the pieces.

Karen’s breath was fast, but her voice confident. “That’s destruction of property, and interference with free press; I’ll report you,” she said.

“Report who?” Maddie queried, low, smirking a little. Her mask covered the top half of her face. Nonetheless, she couldn’t risk giving Karen any more time to recognize her. She stepped on the camera pieces for good measure, ensuring a good crunch. Then she ran past Karen, back toward the amphitheater. Running brought bursts of pain from her injured knee, but she ignored it.

Karen called after her. “The Devil of St. Josephine.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jessica sighed and rubbed her eyes under her sunglasses. It was a little after 10 AM, a time she normally liked to still be asleep, and the sun was just too bright. On top of it all, she had to stand in a crowd of smiling idiots and listen to President Dillard blather on about the new wing of the performing arts center.

Mariah Dillard stood in front of the cornerstone for the new construction, which read 2006. She was wearing a fashionable skirt suit, and a small group of other administrators were around her – Dean Fisk and a few others. A pale man wearing large dark sunglasses stood near her side, clasping one wrist in front of him, his face perfectly blank. He looked like some kind of bodyguard. Jessica recognized him from other times she’d seen the president speak, like at the opening ceremony at the start of the fall semester.

“We are so grateful, as ever, for the beneficence of Cornelia Stokes, which made this new construction possible,” said Professor Dillard, a well-practiced professional smile on her face. “With this new wing, the students of St. Josephine College will be able to expand their artistic pursuits like never before. My dear cousin could not make it here today, but…”

“Cousin?” Jessica murmured to herself.

“Yeah, Stokes and Dillard are related,” said a quiet voice behind Jessica. She looked around and saw Karen Page, wearing a sky-blue dress and leather sandals, notebook in hand – no doubt covering the event for the St. Jo Weekly. “From what I hear, they actually grew up in the same household – Dillard even helped raise her.”

“Oh, hey, you’re that journalist for the student paper,” Jessica said, pretending to not quite recognize her. She made an effort to sound friendly that probably fell flat.

Karen smiled winningly. “Yep. And you’re Jessica Jones,” she said, making it clear she _did_ remember Jessica from their meeting at the Student Activities Fair. “What brings you to an event like this?”

Jessica cleared her throat, annoyed. Karen remembered her, which meant Jessica was already more on her radar than she wanted to be. Especially when Jessica was snooping around, trying to get more information about articles Karen was writing. Karen asking questions was even worse.

“Oh, I’m a huge supporter of the performing arts,” she lied. “Anyway-- I didn’t know our college president was so close with that rich donor. Does that have anything to do with how she got her job?”

“Nobody knows,” Karen replied, “but it seems kind of likely, doesn’t it? I’m trying to find out more.”

Jessica nodded. _Me too_ , she thought. A part of her thought about how useful it might be for the two of them to pool their information. She could tell Karen about the large amount of money that Students for a Better Tomorrow got from President Dillard. What would Karen make of that? What else did Karen know?

But Jessica didn’t know Karen, had no reason to trust her. Anyway, Jessica worked alone.

“So, you ever find what you needed from Students for a Better Tomorrow?” Karen asked, as if reading her mind. Damn, this chick had too good of a memory.

“Um, no, actually,” Jessica said. “They didn’t seem very interested in recruiting new members. I heard something about a party, though. You have any idea when and where that might be?”

Karen looked intrigued. “No, I don’t know about a party they’re having. Only major party I’ve been hearing about coming up is the 80s dance party that QSA is throwing. Saturday, in the ballroom inside of Columbine Hall.”

Jessica nodded as if she cared. She wanted to pick Karen’s brain some more, though, so she forced a friendly tone. “So… Working on any big scoops?” She asked. The bodyguard in shades was handing a beaming President Dillard a large scissors, in order to cut through a ribbon that’d been hung across part of the outer wall of the new wing.

Karen looked very pleased with herself. “Only breaking news about a demonhunter on campus.”

Jessica whipped around to fully face Karen, alarmed. “What did you say?” Had Karen somehow gotten intel on Jessica?

“A demonhunter. Here, on campus. The Devil of St. Josephine. You’ll see my article when the St. Jo Weekly comes out tomorrow.” The crowd applauded politely as Dillard cut the ribbon.

“’The Devil of St. Josephine?’” Jessica repeated, relaxing a bit internally. She knew exactly who Karen was talking about. “Who came up with that name? It sounds like an oxymoron.”

Karen blushed. “Um. I did. It won’t seem like an oxymoron once you see the photo.”

“You got a photo of her?”

Karen’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, with my phone. I got better ones with my camera, but she broke it. Oh, and Jessica?”

“What?”

“How did you know it was a ‘her’?”

Jessica shrugged, making her best stupid face. “All-girls’ school. Chances are good.”

\--

Other than running into Karen, the ribbon-cutting ceremony had largely been a bust. Just the usual empty corporate-speak that college presidents spewed in P.R. situations.

Nonetheless, on the way back to her dorm – _Stokes Hall, ha_ \- Jessica texted Jeri about President Dillard and Cornelia Stokes being family. She decided a little digging on Stokes seemed warranted. Grunting a greeting to Lucy, who was studying with headphones on her bed, Jessica plunked down at her desk. She fired up her janky old PC and opened Firefox.

Seemed Stokes had majored in music. A pianist. Class of ’94, so she was currently about 35, which made her maybe 10 years younger than President Dillard. An article in the St. Jo Weekly from when Stokes was a student described her as a prodigy, and Julliard-bound. But there were no records of Stokes having attended Julliard that Jessica could find.

After graduating from St. Josephine, there were advertisements and write-ups for a few jazz gigs, and then Stokes starting her own music school. Which, by all reports, had been very successful. But successful enough to turn Stokes into a millionaire? People didn’t get rich enough to have their name on a dorm by starting a business oriented around piano lessons. Something definitely didn’t add up.

Maybe finding out more about Dillard’s mysterious bodyguard/assistant would be helpful. But researching him proved fruitless. He was not listed anywhere in the college webpages of the President’s Office. There were two administrative assistants to the President, but they were both women. None of the administrative staff had photos that matched – among the President’s staff, the Deans’ staff, anywhere.

Jessica looked up pictures of President Dillard at graduations, other events. Oddly, the man with shades did not turn up in any of them, even though Jessica got the sense he was always by her side. She typed in searches until she found a photo from the opening ceremony of the fall semester. There was Dillard, standing in front of the podium on the stage area of the outdoor amphitheater. Some Deans and other assorted bureaucrats sat on folding chairs on the stage, but nobody stood next to her.

Jessica checked the date of the article again: 2006. Yep, this year. What the fuck? Jessica had been there. She remembered seeing Shades standing next to Dillard. Was she finally completely losing it?

Or was Shades a demon, the type that didn’t photograph?

\--

Maddie had had another rough night.

That night, she’d been afraid to go back to her dorm right away. If Karen was following her, who else might be? She made her way to the library to kill some time and throw anyone following off her scent. After scanning and finding no heartbeats or breath within range, she scaled the wall to the roof.

There, she unfolded the paper she’d found in the hooded girl’s pocket and ran her fingertips over it, bit by bit. She could pick up the difference between ink and not-ink by texture.

It was a flyer advertising a party thrown by the Students for a Better Tomorrow. On the upcoming Saturday, 10 PM, in Constantine Hall – the big stone building with the bell tower and the cloisters. And the gargoyles; Maddie hadn’t fully recognized them at first until one day she was near Constantine Hall during a light rain, its sounds and spatter sketching out their features for her.

There was some strange art on the flyer, as well; it seemed to be a line drawing of a circle of women dancing, but their eyes were empty of pupils, and their grins seemed too toothy. There was also a symbol in the bottom corner of the flyer, like one broken rectangle on top of another one.

She filed away the information and tore up the flyer. The party was in two days, and it was her one lead toward getting into the portal in Jo-Henge, getting to the center of this nest of demons. She’d lurk outside the party, capture a member of the group alone, when they came out for a smoke break or to head home. Maddie would be as rough as she needed to be. She needed answers. Lives were at stake.

In the meantime, she needed to wait until she knew for sure Karen had lost her trail. She settled in to meditate, trying to calm her mind and send healing energy to her knee. And a little to the cut in her shoulder, which was weeping a bit inside its bandages. The gravel of the rooftop was uncomfortable, though, even through her body armor, and the wind was cold. She wasn’t able to fully slip into her meditative trance and stay there.

The bell tower had stopped chiming for the night hours ago, at midnight, and Maddie didn’t bring her watch with feel-able hands on patrols, but she had other ways of estimating the time. It was about 3 AM. She climbed down from the library roof carefully and moved stealthily across campus, reaching the outside of Barton Hall, listening through walls and windows until she picked out Foggy’s steady, wheezy sleep-breathing through the cacophony of nighttime sounds. Good – Foggy was asleep, and Foggy slept soundly. That meant Maddie could sneak into their room.

It was tricky to be a demonhunter with a secret identity when you lived in a dorm, with a roommate.

Maddie closed the window behind her as quietly as possible and immediately began stripping off her body armor. Uncharacteristically, Foggy stirred and mumbled. “Maddie? Why’re you out so late…” Maddie heard Foggy reaching for her bedside lamp.

“No, no, you don’t need to turn on the light,” Maddie hissed, urgently enough that Foggy froze. “Um, it will disturb your circadian rhythms. Just go back to sleep.”

“Okay. Thanks, girl,” Foggy replied, finally, in a half-awake voice, and Maddie let out her breath in relief as she got the rest of the way out of her suit and stashed it away in the box she hid in the back of her closet. She didn’t know for sure if there was enough ambient light at night in their room for Foggy to see by, but she sure as hell didn’t want to try and explain what she was doing wearing red armor with horns on the helmet.

It was strange: Foggy was the closest person in Maddie’s life. But she was also the person Maddie least wanted to know about her abilities, and that she was a demonhunter. Maddie couldn’t bear the thought of putting Foggy in any kind of danger.

Maddie climbed into bed in her underwear, and pushed away the thoughts of the other reason she didn’t want Foggy to know. Foggy’s friendship was too precious to Maddie. She didn’t want to do anything at all that could rock the boat. And Maddie had no idea what Foggy would think about her blind friend having superpowers; about her spending her nights beating up demons. Maddie hadn’t had enough friends to be quite sure on what grounds people got rejected, but she imagined that could be one of them.


	5. Chapter 5

Friday was the day the St. Jo Weekly came out. It was distributed in stacks of papers in the lobby of the dining hall, in the Student Center, the gym, the main building. By the time Jessica got out of biology class that morning, most of the stacks were depleted – unusual popularity for the little paper. She finally was able to grab a discarded one on a table in the library.

The headline was in a huge font. This was clearly an exciting moment for the weekly.

            CAMPUS DEMONHUNTER

            _Who is she and what is she doing here?_

Underneath the headline was a grainy photo of a running figure in the woods, shot from the back, no doubt with a shitty cell phone camera. The figure was wearing some kind of suit, and small horns stuck up from her head.

“Yep, that’s the bitch, alright,” Jessica muttered. She tore out the article, drawing irritated stares from quiet studiers around her, and left the rest of the paper on the table.

\--

“Maddie,” Foggy said over her pancakes that morning. “Go back to our room, load up your reading software, and get it to read this article to you.” She put the paper down on the dining hall table and took another bite of pancake. Maddie spread butter on toast.

“Why, what is it?” Maddie had a bad feeling about this, from the tone of Foggy’s voice and the smell of her trepidation.

“There’s a demonhunter hanging out on campus. Karen shot a photo of her running away in Grace Woods.”

Maddie put down her toast. She felt sick.

“That must mean we have demons or vampires or something on campus, right?” Foggy went on, looking up at Maddie. “I mean, you usually hear about demonhunters in places like New York, Tokyo, Chicago… Do you think we’ve got _demons_ here? At St. Josephine?”

God, if Foggy only knew. “I don’t know,” Maddie managed. “I guess so.”

“She was beating up someone - the demonhunter was, I mean. Karen didn’t get a good look at what was happening. And then two people jumped on her, and one of them was… Breathing fire. That’s not… That’s not a very human thing to do, Maddie.”

“No,” Maddie said. Maddie had heard of such things, but that night had been the first time she encountered it in person. Some special kind of demonic energy was involved. Something… swallowed up.

“The picture’s really grainy, but she’s got, like, a suit on, and horns. Karen’s calling her ‘The Devil of St. Josephine’.”

 _I broke her camera_ , Maddie kept thinking. _I broke her goddamned camera._ _She must have had another one. Shit._ “Hmm,” she grunted, non-committally.

“You’re always out late at night, Maddie,” Foggy said. Maddie’s head jerked up. “I mean, I don’t want to tell you how to run your life, but… If there are demons running around out there, shouldn’t you…” she sighed. “Just, please, please be careful, okay?” Maddie heard the tremble in her voice that Foggy was trying to suppress.

Maddie swallowed. “I will, Foggy,” she croaked.

She heard Foggy drop her face into her hands. “Agggh, god,” Foggy moaned. “Demons swarming the campus, I’ve got this poli-sci test Monday I haven’t studied for at all, and I’m still so behind on organizing the 80s party for QSA. I’m supposed to find a disco ball somewhere. Weren’t disco balls actually from the 70s?”

“Um, I really wouldn’t know,” Maddie said, relieved at the change of topic. “When’s the party?”

“Saturday,” Foggy replied. “Shit. That’s tomorrow. 10 PM, Constantine Hall. You’re coming, right?”

“10 PM? Constantine Hall?” Maddie repeated, frowning.

“Yeah. Why?”

“It’s just - I thought some other group had a thing there, at that same time and date.”

“Really? Who?”

Maddie really didn’t want Foggy to get mixed up in this Students for a Better Tomorrow stuff. She shook her head. “I don’t remember. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“We definitely booked the room,” Foggy said. “Chelsea, the other QSA social rep, said she booked it, and I just double-checked it yesterday.”

“I’m probably mistaken,” Maddie said. “What I saw, that must be next week.”

\--

Maddie stopped by the Student Activities Office after Latin class. She smiled sweetly at the administrative assistant.

“Hi, I’m just checking into a room I booked for a student event,” she said.

“Sure thing, hon. Let me just pull up the scheduler.” The woman struggled with the computer for a moment, grumbling at it.

Maddie cleared her throat. “I think the Students for a Better Tomorrow party is in the same time and place as the QSA party. There seem to be things double-booked in Constantine Hall for 10 PM, Saturday.”

Maddie sensed the woman frowning at her computer screen. “I only see QSA in Constantine Hall this Saturday night. Nothing seems double-booked. You’re just fine, sweetie.” Maddie picked up her smile from her voice and the sounds outlining her cheek muscles. That sort of smile and tone that broadcasted acceptance, that some adults used to help the gay kids feel safe. _Good_ – she assumed Maddie was associated with QSA, not Students for a Better Tomorrow. It was better that way.

“So… The Students for a Better Tomorrow party… You don’t have that scheduled this weekend at all? Maybe in a different building?” Maddie probed.

The woman hummed as she looked through the calendar. “Mmmm… Nope, we’ve got the chess club meeting, the Speculative Fiction Club games night… Four separate a cappella group practice sessions… I don’t see anything for Students for a Better Tomorrow this weekend.”

She typed a bit more and shifted her desk chair back. “That is, nothing officially booked and in our schedule,” she chuckled. “Lord knows, sometimes student groups get a little sneaky on us and hold unofficial parties. But you QSA kids are good about that, always do your paperwork. Right, hon?”

Maddie did her best humble winning smile. “Yes, we try,” she said, letting her keep thinking Maddie was with QSA. “Thank you so much for your time.”

“Oh, my pleasure, sweetheart.”

Walking out of the main building, Maddie ruminated on what Students for a Better Tomorrow was planning. Were they going to crash the QSA party somehow? Maddie had been planning to just lurk outside, but the situation was sounding more and more dire.

She was so distracted that she forgot to use her cane, for the appearance of needing it for navigation, as she exited the main building and approached the front steps.

Karen was coming up the steps, a little out of breath. “Maddie, hey. Can I talk to you for a second?”

Karen. The very last person Maddie wanted to talk to right now. If she could somehow avoid Karen for the rest of her four years at St. Josephine, that would be for the best. Unfortunately, avoiding someone for even 24 hours was an impossibility at a college this small.

“Uh, actually I’m late to… Latin class,” Maddie offered, and sensed Karen’s face hardening. No way she believed that.

Karen took Maddie by the shoulder and steered her into a corner of the main building’s front porch.

“The Devil of St. Josephine,” Karen whispered. “The article I wrote for the paper. I know you know something. I need to find out more.”

Maddie shook her head firmly. “I know nothing, Karen,” she said. “And you really, really should not press too hard into these things. It’s dangerous.”

“Bullshit,” said Karen. “We’re all in danger if there are demons crawling around campus and none of us know. It’s my duty to report these things to the campus community.”

“You’re going to get yourself hurt,” Maddie pleaded. “Just stay away from it all.”

“Someone has to do the work,” Karen said, her voice hard. “And, why do you think it’s so dangerous, anyway?”

Maddie threw out her hands impatiently. “ _Demons_ , Karen!”

“Yeah? What do you know about demons?”

“No more than you. We both know they drag people off, though. Kill them. Eat them.”

Karen was silent for a moment.

“I really have to go. I’m sorry I can’t help. But please, Karen – please think about my advice and just drop this.” She felt the steps with her cane and started to walk away.

“The Madwoman,” Karen said behind her, and Maddie froze. “And the Devil of St. Josephine. I feel like they have some things in common.”

“Yeah,” Maddie said over her shoulder, “Cute nicknames.”

\--

Jessica read Karen’s article that she’d torn out of the paper while walking to the dining hall for lunch. Karen hadn’t discovered much about the Devil yet, or about the demons on campus. But she would. Jessica breathed a sigh of relief: At least Karen’s focus right now was on the other demonhunter. Annoying as the Devil of St. Josephine might be, she could draw attention - take the heat off of Jessica. Nobody would ever suspect there were _two_ demonhunters on campus.

Jessica gave her student ID card to the door attendant to scan, tucking the article into her back pocket. Her bored eyes scanning the dining hall lobby happened to pass by a student in a wheelchair who’d been chatting with another student too close to the edge of the stairs down to the main floor. Another student bumped her wheelchair, causing her to skid a bit. Her chair tilted and started a course crashing down the steps.

Without a thought, Jessica was there in an instant, reaching out to grab the side of the wheelchair in one hand, stopping its fall. The chair’s occupant dangled precariously; Jessica grabbed her around the waist with her other arm to keep her from falling out, while she brought the wheelchair back to the top of the steps and set it down carefully.

Of course, everyone standing on the steps, at the foot of the steps, and in the lobby was staring, quiet. The door attendant’s jaw was open in shock. “Thank you,” the girl in the wheelchair panted, wiping sweat from her forehead. Someone started clapping, and others joined in, cheering Jessica.

_Shit._

“Mm-hmm, sure, no problem,” Jessica told the girl, moving away. “Really nothing,” she said to nobody in particular, moving down the steps. Someone nearby put two fingers in her mouth and made a whistle of appreciation among the applause. “Adrenaline rush,” Jessica told her, shrugging. “You know, how moms lift cars off of their kids sometimes.” _Shit, shit, shit._

At the bottom of the stairs, two smiling girls in matching t-shirts waited for Jessica, and the symbol on their t-shirts stopped Jessica in her tracks.

Two red, square brackets, back to back. One on top of the other.

“That was amazing,” one of them said to her, and Jessica recognized her face, her short blond hair, from the Student Activities Fair. “Hi. I’m Sara. I think we met earlier this week?” She stuck out a hand for Jessica to shake.

“Yeah, I really have to eat and run,” Jessica said, ignoring Sara’s hand and shouldering past the two of them.

“Can we eat with you?” asked the other girl, following. Jessica stopped and thought, weighing the risk of these two finding out any more about her against the opportunity to gather intel on Sara Knowles, President – at least in name – of the group Jessica had been tailing all week.

“Fine,” Jessica said. “But. I’m going to have to eat fast.” She took a tray and moved through the cafeteria, grabbing an assortment of food items in easy reach: a pop tart, a plate of French fries, a little dish of red Jell-O. The two girls lingered behind her, whispering to each other by the salad bar. Jessica squirted ketchup on the side of her French fry plate – _there, that’s my vegetable_ – and cast a frown over what she had on her tray. Looking up, she saw a wicker basket of bananas and apples on the counter by the soda fountain. She went over to get a glass of soda, and glanced at the fruit basket again. She thought about Trish. She took a banana warily.

Seated at one of the long cafeteria tables, Jessica shoved her pop tart in her mouth, looking from Sara to the other one, who had introduced herself as Katie.

Katie looked at Sara and cleared her throat. “So, Jessica. you’re… You’re really strong,” Katie said, nervously. “Keeping that wheelchair from falling with one hand? That was incredible.”

“Adrenaline,” Jessica repeated, like before, her mouth full of pop tart. “And… Pilates. Does wonders.”

They nodded politely. There was an awkward silence while Jessica stared at them, eating French fries.

“So, um, we were really hoping you would come to our party,” Katie continued. “Students—“

“—The Queer-Straight Alliance party,” Sara cut in. “Tomorrow night, 10 PM.” Jessica narrowed her eyes at her, and Sara grinned back.

Jessica rolled her eyes and sighed. She might be able to get more information out of them if she played along, but they made it difficult with their awful lying and blatant t-shirts. “Listen, cut the crap,” Jessica said to them. “I know you both are with the Students for a Better Tomorrow. What do you want?”

They looked at each other again.

Sara spoke up. “Well, the thing is, we could use someone really strong to help with set-up,” she said. “Heavy lifting. We’ve got a really elaborate stage design for the party.”

Even if that was legit, Jessica couldn’t really lift heavy things around people. It was too hard to not make it look too easy. Her powers would be found out. She was getting ready to tell them to forget it, when Katie added, “we can pay you, of course.”

Jessica paused. She considered her current income flow, and her current whisky supply, which was low. “How much?”

“Oh, say… Three hundred,” Sara offered. She hastened to add, as Jessica carefully kept her face blank, “is that enough?”

Three hundred dollars. For an hour or two of moving furniture? Jessica wasn’t sure she had ever seen that much money in one place. Other than Trish’s money. And her student loan statements, which had lots of zeros on them, but that was more like negative money.

And Sara was worried it wasn’t even _enough_. Jessica could milk this.

“How about three fifty,” she said. And then went out on a limb even more. “Half up front.”

Sara nodded immediately. “Done. Come to Constantine Hall at 10 tomorrow. We’ll meet you there and show you what to do.” She got a money clip out of her purse, a money clip containing way too many bills for a regular college student, and started counting out twenties for Jessica.

“You don’t want me to come a little early?” Jessica asked, suspicious. “Since I’m helping with set-up?”

“That’s alright,” Sara said. “10 is fine.” She pressed a stack of bills into Jessica’s palm. “Other half when you finish the work.”

“Thanks so much!” Katie gushed, as she and Sara got up, salads barely picked at on their trays. She held out her hand for shaking, and awkwardly withdrew it as Jessica stared at her, making no move. “See you there!” And they were off, speaking in low voices to each other as they headed toward the conveyer belt for trays.

Jessica looked at the hundred and seventy-five dollars she had just been bribed with. It was more than sketchy. It was the very essence of sketch.

She shoved the money in her pocket and ate a few more French fries, thinking. Superpowers or not, this wasn’t a situation she wanted to go into alone. Who knew what those fucking cultists wanted? It could be to slit her throat and drink her blood.

Plus - if the universe surprised her and Katie and Sara were not lying, and only wanted Jessica to help with set-up, then it would look way more natural for Jessica to easily lift a bureau, or whatever they wanted her to lift, if there were two people “lifting” it. Jessica could just quietly do 80% of the work.

She almost wished she had a way to contact the Devil of St. Josephine. At least they seemed to be on the same side in this fight. But Karen’s investigative reporting hadn’t yet revealed the Devil’s identity.

Jessica would do investigation of her own, of course. But there wasn’t time. The party was the next day.

There was someone else Jessica knew that maybe could help. It was a long shot, and Jessica was loathe to talk to other humans in a friendly way.

Even her own roommate.

Even though her roommate was pretty cute.

\--

Lucy’s eyebrows climbed up her head. “A party?”

Jessica chewed a nail, shrugged. “Yeah.”

It was the time of day Lucy usually headed for the gym, but Jessica hadn’t found her there. She’d tried a few buildings, and finally found her in the library reading a book. Wearing clean, fresh gym clothes, with her gym bag on the floor next to her. Jessica filed that away to ponder later.

Lucy leaned back in her chair and put her book down. “You,” she said, deadpan. “Me. A party.”

“I got suckered into helping with set-up,” Jessica said. “There’s going to be heavy lifting. I could use some help.” If she was any kind of decent person, she would offer Lucy half the money. But decency wasn’t her strong suit. “And some… Company?”

Lucy kept looking up at Jessica. It wasn’t very far up, even though Jessica was standing and Lucy was sitting down. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“No! No, Jesus, no,” Jessica said immediately. And watched, shocked, as a hurt look passed over Lucy’s face before it settled into something stony.

She opened her mouth again hastily. “I mean, unless…” Lucy looked at her out of the tops of her eyes. “Unless you were open to that.”

Lucy tilted her head. “I might be open to that,” she said. And, surprise after surprise, actually smiled at Jessica.

Jessica nodded, dumbly, and kept nodding. “Okay! Alright. So, it’s at 10 tomorrow night. We can walk over, from our room? Anyway. I’ll see ya.” She started walking away. Another second of this awkwardness might kill her.

“Right,” Lucy called after her. “See ya!”

Jessica couldn’t put a thought together until she was outside the library on the path. Then she stopped in her tracks and smacked herself in the head. “Moron,” she muttered to herself. “What did you do. A fucking _date_. What did you fucking do.”

\--

“You’re coming to the party?” Foggy exclaimed, her voice rising into a squeak. Maddie hadn’t heard her sound that happy in a long while. She felt a sting of guilt that she’d been neglecting her best friend so much that it was a shock to Foggy that Maddie was planning to do something social with her.

“Yeah,” Maddie said, putting on her best smile. “I thought I should be there.”

“Awesome-sauce! This is going to be the _best_!” Maddie heard the clench of Foggy’s fist and swish of her elbow pumping downward. “Everything’s falling into place, Maddie, like magic. Remember I was all worried about planning? Well, somehow everything’s taken care of. A DJ has been booked – Chelsea and I didn’t even have to do anything. Someone even found a disco ball for us.”

“That’s fantastic,” said Maddie, trying to sound supportive while a red flag waved in her head.

Foggy came over and put her hands on Maddie’s shoulders. Maddie covered them with her own, her smile automatic and unintentional this time.

“Buddy,” Foggy said to her. “This party is going to kick more ass than any party you’ve ever seen.”

“That’s a pretty low bar, Foggy,” Maddie joked.

She knew she had to start planning. She would be going in there tomorrow, no body armor – there was no way to be present among the crowd, anonymous, and also be protected. She had no idea what Students for a Better Tomorrow were planning, the number and kind of enemies that would be there, the danger they would put the other party-goers into. Maddie had to be prepared for any kind of fight. And she had to somehow pull it off without anyone noticing the blind kid being a secret ninja.

Despite all that, though, she was just grateful for Foggy’s warm hands, Foggy’s delight at getting to hang out with her. Some small, quiet corner of her mind wanted to forget all the danger existed and just go to a party with Foggy.


	6. Chapter 6

Maddie had forgotten how difficult parties were, even when she didn’t have to be alert for demons and their human supporters. There was so much noise, so much movement. Only her years of training her mind allowed her to focus on anything or make sense of the clamor. And kept her from freaking out.

Foggy’s hand on her arm, Foggy’s voice were things Maddie could hone in on, were sources of calm. As always.

“Oh, Maddie, the disco ball is so cool,” Foggy was saying as they entered the stone archway into the Constantine Hall ballroom. “It’s not a regular disco ball. It’s, like, blood red, and shining little red laser light dots on everything. Where the hell did they find one like that?”

Maddie shrugged and shook her head.

“And there are candles everywhere,” Foggy continued. “On pedestals in the corners, in all the little nooks and crannies in the hall. That’s _definitely_ breaking school fire code. But it looks so cool. Let’s try really hard not to knock one down and burn the place to the ground, ‘kay?”

Maddie laughed weakly. She could smell the aftermath of burnt herbs.

Foggy suddenly gasped. “Are you kidding me? They painted designs on the floor?” she said. “Crap, I hope it comes off. Chelsea and I will be on the line for that. They do look pretty rad, though.”

“What kind of designs?” Maddie asked, getting more and more worried. “Can you describe them to me?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Um, there’s a big red circle with different designs inside. I can’t make it out too well because people are dancing on it. Some triangles, I think? No, wait … A huge star … With some curlicues and dots and stuff inside the points and around the edges. Huh. Oh wow- they just turned on the black lights, and the lines are all glow-y.”

Maddie nodded. “Thanks, Fog.” It was helpful. It gave Maddie an idea what was going to go down tonight. A summoning, likely a multiple summoning.

More and more people were arriving, their sounds and smells crowding into Maddie’s consciousness. The DJ faded out Depeche Mode’s “Policy of Truth” and brought in the opening sounds of “Mad World.” When the minor key bass line kicked in, Maddie felt all the hairs stand up on her arms and her scalp twitch. “Was all 80s music this spooky?” Maddie wondered aloud, and Foggy’s laugh made her feel a little better.

A fleeting thought went through Maddie’s head. Whatever was coming, she had to protect Foggy at all costs. She pummeled that thought back with guilt and duty: _not just Foggy. I have to save everybody._

\--

“So, I thought we were supposed to help with set-up?” Lucy said. “Everything looks pretty set up already.”

Jessica took a sip of her beer and made a face. Ugh, college party kegs. The stuff was like dirty water. “Yeah, sure does. Honestly, I don’t know what they wanted me here for.” That statement was actually almost honest.

“Well, might as well have some fun while we’re here, right?” Lucy said. “I’m going to get on that creepy-ass dance floor. You’re welcome to join me. If you want, I mean.”

Jessica blinked at her. Her misanthropy and dislike of crowds battled with some other knot of feelings, feelings about dancing with Lucy, about maybe getting to touch Lucy. “Maybe after I finish my drink,” she said, finally. “You have fun though.”

Lucy shrugged and disappeared into the throng in the center of the ballroom.

Jessica took another swallow of beer – there had to be some alcohol in that swill somewhere – and surveyed the dance floor Lucy had aptly described as _creepy-ass_. As dancers moved and shifted, Jessica could make out the lines painted on the floor. One-hundred-percent chance there was a demonic purpose to that thing. She looked around at the candles, counted them. Six groups of six. Classic – typical for a big-deal summoning. Even that laser-spewing disco ball had to be part of it somehow, she suspected, although she hadn’t heard of props like that in summonings before.

She surveyed the crowd. There were seventy, eighty people there already, more coming all the time. It was the first major party of the fall, and Jessica suspected it would be well-attended. Students for a Better Tomorrow were essentially crashing the QSA party, taking it over for their own purposes. They needed a crowd, for whatever reason – that was not a normal part of demon summoning, but there was something beyond a regular summoning being planned.

Jessica frowned. Her goal had been simply to get intel from the party. But this was shaping up to be much more of a fighting-demons situation. She was going to be forced to do that in front of a hell of a lot of people. Hopefully when the shit hit the fan, most of them would evacuate. Hopefully Jessica’s super-strength and speed wouldn’t be much noticed in the chaos.

Looking around, her eye caught on two people she recognized. That red-spectacled, blind, devout Catholic, the one who’d been all up in Jessica’s face at the Student Activities Fair, was on the arm of Foggy Nelson, the representative from QSA that Jessica had also met that day. Foggy was chatting amiably with her, but Red Glasses looked remarkably tense. _Hm. Maybe she doesn’t like parties, either._

On the other side of the room, Jessica caught sight of Karen Page, sitting in a chair and sipping a beer all by herself. Karen was trying to be discreet about it, but her eyes kept flicking up toward Foggy and her friend – _Maddie_ , that was it. Then, some people Karen knew came up to her; Karen smiled and started talking to them.

Lucy was moving on the dance floor, looking good, attracting some attention. _Forget about her_ , Jessica told herself. How could Jessica date anyone, anyway? There was no way to be with someone and keep her powers secret. Even in one-time hookups, Jessica had to be careful, keeping her strength in check to not reveal anything or hurt her partner. It never seemed worth it.

Distracted by watching Lucy dance, Jessica suddenly became aware of a girl nearby wobbling on her feet. She put her beer down and got there in one step before the girl could collapse; Jessica caught her under the armpits before she hit the ground. “Hey! You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah… Just… Didn’t eat anything today,” the girl said, rubbing her eyes. “Thanks – sorry for falling on you.”

“No problem. Go eat something,” Jessica replied, gruffly, looking the girl over. That t-shirt – the two red brackets. A wordless worry drilled into the back of her brain as she reached for her beer again, watching the girl walk unsteadily away.

Jessica had already taken a swallow when she saw the other woman in a Students for a Better Tomorrow t-shirt moving away from the table her Solo cup had been on. She noticed the lingering taste in her mouth of the piss-water beer was a little… Different.

_Fuck._ She’d been drugged.

She threw the rest of her beer into a trash can and tried to assess the damage. She’d only taken one swallow. But she was already starting to feel dizzy, sleepy. She tried to take deep breaths and assess the symptoms, separate them from the panic climbing up her throat.

Her head swam. She was breaking out in a sweat, and her stomach was knotting, but she suspected tell those were from anxiety, not from the drug. There wasn’t the level of pain she’d expect from a fast-acting, lethal toxin. So, they didn’t want to kill her – not yet, anyway. But she was finding it difficult to string together a coherent thought, and she felt a little reluctant to move. Despite her panic, she had an urge to curl up right there on the floor and take a nap.

Fucking cultists had roofied her.

She looked around wildly for anyone wearing that t-shirt with the red brackets, and almost stumbled into one. Sara Knowles, smiling brightly up at her. “Jessica! Great, you’re here! So, we need you to do something for us. Can you come over here for a sec?”

“Whaddid youfffuckers puddinma beer,” Jessica slurred as Sara took her by the elbow and tugged. Jessica didn’t budge.

Sara giggled nervously. “Uh, I couldn’t make that out, but it sounds like you had a little too much to drink. That’s okay, though, can you just help us out real quick? Just—“

“Nnnnah,” Jessica said. She knew she was strong enough to yank her arm free, but her brain wasn’t talking to her muscles very well. “Nogg-goin anywhere. You… Tell me…” She lost her train of thought, her finger of her other hand pointing at Sara. She blinked heavily, trying to clear her vision.

Sara was putting something in Jessica’s hand. A heavy, dark red stone. Jessica stared at it for a long moment, mesmerized. When she became aware of her surroundings again, Sara had led her toward the dance floor. Sara was muttering about trying to get things placed right, and Jessica knew deep in her muddled mind that something was very wrong.

Sara’s voice came from behind her. “Kimberly, will you please keep her in place? I’ve got to get the others…” A tall, broad-shouldered redhead loomed in front of Jessica, grinning wide.

“I dunnwanna dansss, thanks,” Jessica said, and then she thought she saw flames licking out of the redhead’s empty eye sockets. The next instant, though – normal human eyes. Demon? Or was the drug making her hallucinate?

Jessica looked around, and saw Sara and more girls in gray t-shirts bringing other students to the dance floor, maneuvering them by the shoulders to stand in certain spots. She focused in on one of the students who looked familiar. Shoulder-length brown hair, braces. The girl didn’t look too good. Could hardly stand up, eyes fluttering closed. A red stone was in her hands, too.

Jessica looked down at her own feet. Center. She was in the center of the giant pentagram drawn on the floor.

She looked at the red stone again, and tried to remember how it got in her hands. Tried to remember what she was here to do.

\--

“Well, this is weird,” Foggy remarked. “People must be setting up for some kind of special synchronized dance or something. Taking positions on the dance floor. Huh… A confluence of gray t-shirts, with some kind of red logo on them… I wonder who they are? Maybe one of the a cappella groups?”

“What kind of red logo?” Maddie asked. “What positions? What are they doing?” She sensed many people moving and some people still on the dance floor, but it was hard in the press of people to make out which people Foggy was talking about.

Before Foggy could answer, Maddie picked up a body with a heartbeat that was just _wrong_. A large body. Unnaturally cold in the extremities, unnaturally hot within.

The demon was standing in front of a person Maddie recognized, from shape and smell. That other demonhunter, the one from Grace Woods. A chalky chemical odor that Maddie had noticed permeating the room was a bit more concentrated in the air right in front of the demonhunter’s mouth.

Foggy was starting to answer her questions. “Foggy,” Maddie interrupted, “you need to leave.”

Foggy spluttered. “Wha- what? Maddie – what are you talking about? Leave the party I half-assed helped coordinate, are you kidding?”

Maddie gripped Foggy’s arm. “Something’s about to go down,” Maddie insisted. “Something bad. Please just trust me. Get your friends, get Karen –“ she sensed Foggy’s surprise that Maddie knew Karen was in the room, but that didn’t matter now- “and just get out.”

“We just got here-“

“There are going to be demons,” Maddie said desperately, leaning close in to Foggy’s face. “Don’t ask me how I know. Leave! _Now!_ ”

Foggy’s hurt and anger flooded Maddie’s senses. “I’m not going anywhere without you,” she hissed.

That was when the music changed. A thumping techno beat took over the previous song. Over the beat, the DJ mixed a series of strange noises – thumps, squeaks, random-seeming notes, with no discernable rhythm or melody.

Foggy broke away from Maddie suddenly, and was doing some kind of dance. Her arms and head moved in jerky, awkward patterns.

“Foggy,” Maddie said, her mouth dry. “Foggy, what are you doing?” Foggy’s fast breathing was her only reply. Her heartbeat stuttered in fear.

The whole dance hall stank of fear suddenly. Maddie’s skin crawled as she realized everyone around them was moving their arms and head along with Foggy’s, in unison. The squeaks and tones playing over the sound system lodged themselves in Maddie’s brain, and she felt them start to hijack her motor control. She felt one of her arms jerk up, against her will. Maddie fought it, but she couldn’t shut the sounds out.

_Oh._ But she could let all the other sounds in.

Maddie took a deep breath and undid the careful net of control she had weaved throughout the years, her hard-won focus that allowed her to move through the world and not lose her mind. Without that focus, she’d be overwhelmed with sensations. But it would be a cacophony that the demonic sounds would be lost in. Deliberately, effortfully, Maddie let go.

She sank down to the floor, covering her ears, as the sounds crowded in, assaulting her skull. Every breath and shuffle of feet, every swish of clothing as people moved. Each creak of the stones and wood of the building. Voices inside and outside the building. The scratch of the claws of mice that lived in the walls. Everything echoing and bouncing off the old stone walls. Every heartbeat, dozens and dozens of them, all out of synch.

It was hell, but it was a total mess of sound, and the noises controlling everyone’s movements were swallowed up in it.

Now, she had to get herself together and find the DJ, without the aid of her refined auditory sense. She pulled herself to her feet. Before anything else, before she confronted the demon in their midst, Maddie had to stop whatever infernal noises the DJ was playing.

She struggled over towards where she remembered the DJ station being when she had had a better outline of everything in the room. She bumped into several people – smell and heat alone not giving her their exact outlines – and finally began using her cane for real, not just as a prop. Her feet seemed made out of lead, and her arms and head were twitching along with the jerky motions the crowd was making on the dance floor; some of the mind-hijacking noises must be getting through to her nervous system.

_Just a little further._ She could feel the vibrations from the thumping speakers getting stronger in her bones as she got closer. And then she sensed them – the heat, the stench – hellhounds. One at each of the four entrances to the ballroom, blocking all the exits.

\--

Jessica’s vision was wavering. She was having trouble staying on her feet, but each time she swayed forward, the helpful demon in front of her put out a hand to steady her. _Wait. Demon._ She had to fight the demon. That was her job. Jeri would kill her if she didn’t do her job.

It was so hard to think straight. Maybe this red rock in her hands would help.

Pretty. The rock was suffused with red light. Red light coming down in a beam. Jessica followed the beam upwards with her eyes, forcing them to stay open. Red light beam, coming from the red disco ball. Pulsating red disco ball. Was it supposed to do that?

Five more beams coming from it. Down to the other people. Her sisters at the corners of the star on the ground. Whatever they needed to do, they would all do it together.

The music throbbed in her body. She couldn’t make a lot of sense out of the odd sounds, but she couldn’t make a lot of sense out of anything much. Until she felt the pressure in her mind, like a finger trying to poke its way in.

Adrenaline flooded through her, so much that the effects of the drug receded. She knew that feeling. She knew exactly what it was, because it had happened to her before. She had been possessed by a demon. And it was happening again.

The probing went deeper, something started to enter, and the fog from the drug was replaced by blinding panic. “Bedford! Cecil!” she cried, hands over her ears as if that could shut the thing out. The red stone clattered to the floor. “Warwick, Seymour, Arthur. Bedford, Cecil, Warwick…” She needed to fight. She’d gotten rid of a demon in her head before, but she wasn’t sure she could do it again.

The stone may have catalyzed everything, but the red laser light from the disco ball was still trained on her. She willed her legs to move and stumbled away from the center of the pentagram. “Seymour, Arthur. Bedford, Cecil…” The red light was following her, the thing still clawing its way into her mind. She looked around at the other five women at the five points of the pentagram. Some were slumped to the floor, some being held up by figures in gray t-shirts. One’s body began to twitch and jerk. They were all there to be possessed. Everyone else kept dancing, not responding to Jessica’s outburst.

Jessica looked up at the red disco ball, right above her head. Definitely pulsating. Not cool.

She took a flying leap straight up and smashed her fist into it like a volleyball spike. Someone screamed. The disco ball shattered, pieces of plastic and metal spraying the room. The red lasers went out or went in haywire directions, cast low across the floor, bouncing off of the shrapnel. Jessica landed in a crouch. She felt the invader into her mind recede, and breathed out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. The woman whose body had been twitching had curled up peacefully on the floor. Somehow, the crowd’s dancing continued unabated in the commotion, eerily synchronous.

Jessica didn’t have time to figure out the dancing; something like a flamethrower came at her face. She flipped out of the way sideways and got to her feet, coughing at the smell of singed hair. The redhead Sara had called Kimberly was stalking toward her, although Jessica wasn’t sure there was a lot of the original Kimberly left in there. Flames licked out of the holes where her eyes should be, and her mouth was stretched into an unnaturally wide grin, teeth sharp.

The music/noise had stopped; there were crashes from the direction of the DJ booth, and dancers were suddenly milling around, collapsing to the ground. Sara’s voice was shrieking somewhere nearby: “She ruined it! She ruined the ritual!” Kimberly swung fists at Jessica, who dodged, with difficulty.

“Keep her alive,” came another familiar voice. Jessica recognized Nobuko, wearing a red _gi,_ running past her toward the DJ booth, and then Kimberly landed a kick in her ribcage.

Jessica slammed into the ground. Damn, the girl was strong, or at least girl-plus-demon was. And Jessica’s reflexes were still dulled by the drug. Flames shot toward her and she rolled, got up into a crouch, and shot a leg out, landing her full strength into Kimberly’s knee. She watched the knee snap out of joint, but it didn’t seem to bother demon-Kimberly; she kept coming at Jessica, hobbling. Fire poured out of her mouth again and Jessica jumped aside, but it burned her arm. The thing kept spitting fire at Jessica, not letting Jessica get close. Finally, Kimberly sprang like an animal, and though Jessica flew up to avoid being tackled, the demon got one of her legs and dragged her to the ground. The back of Jessica’s head hit the floor hard, adding another layer of dizziness. Kimberly crawled up her body, and Jessica struggled to get free, hitting out at her face. A loud crack, and Kimberly’s jaw was hanging at a very bad angle, but the demonic face just turned back toward Jessica, mouth open, about to spew fire that would engulf Jessica’s head –

 -- And then Kimberly was not on top of Jessica anymore. She’d been grasped by the back of the shirt and tossed against the nearest wall. Jessica scrambled up on her elbows to try to assess what had happened. Lucy was standing over her, watching Kimberly hit the floor after bouncing off the wall. She’d thrown Kimberly a stupefying distance, and Kimberly was not small. Jessica’s mouth hung open. Lucy turned back to Jessica and offered her hand to help her up. Jessica reached out, but then saw Kimberly brokenly get up and launch herself at Lucy’s back.

“Lucy, behind you!” Jessica cried.

Lucy was fast. She spun and swung; a punch to the head sent Kimberly flying again. Kimberly kept coming, spewing her fire, but Lucy just walked into it. As Jessica watched in amazement, Lucy grabbed Kimberly in a sort of bear hug, lifting Kimberly off her feet - letting her whole head be surrounded with the fire Kimberly was spewing – and knocked her forehead hard into Kimberly’s. The fire finally abated, and Kimberly went limp, unconscious.

Lucy’s hair and eyebrows had all burned off, and acrid smoke filled the air. But her skin was untouched.

“We’re going to talk about how you’re apparently un-burnable,” Jessica said, catching her breath and getting unsteadily to her feet. “But first, we gotta tie her up with something. I know a good exorcist in New York, but it’s gonna take a while for her to get here.”

Lucy chewed her lip, nodding, holding the still body of the possessed girl. “Yeah, okay,” she said finally. “And you can talk about how you got up to the ceiling to smash that disco ball. Grab that string of twinkly-lights.”

Jessica ripped the twinkly-lights down from the walls and they set about immobilizing Kimberly’s body. “Hey, Lucy,” Jessica said, winding cord around Kimberly’s wrists. “Thanks, man.”

“’Course. You’re damn lucky those weird sounds stopped so I didn’t have to keep doing The Robot,” Lucy replied, tying up Kimberly’s legs. “What’s going down over there, anyway?”

Jessica finished a good knot and looked up. The DJ, who had at some point donned a gray, hooded cowl, was sprawled unconscious on the ground; Red Glasses, of all people, was flying through the air in combat with Nobuko. Jessica watched a moment through the lingering haze of the drug effects, trying to understand what she was seeing. Nobuko was spinning some kind of a blade on a chain, lashing at Maddie with it, who was flipping and spinning out of the way, attacking Nobuko with impressive martial-arts moves. Impressive, and strikingly familiar.

“Holy balls on a _donkey_ ,” Jessica whispered to nobody. It didn’t make any sense. She was blind. But Maddie Murdock was the fucking Devil of St. Josephine.

And the Devil was rapidly getting her ass handed to her. Nobuko got her on the ground on all fours, and the spinning blade sliced into her, adding to the many cuts Jessica could see on her body. Blood glinted darkly all over the floor. Jessica started toward the two of them. “She needs help,” she said to Lucy. Some of the partygoers were beginning to panic as they came to, screaming and making for the doors. The hellhounds were snapping at them, burning any who got too close.

“Not you,” Lucy said, coming up behind Jessica and grabbing her by the shoulder. “You’re hurt, and I think they drugged you. I’m fine now that I’m not trapped in some Beetlejuice Harry Belafonte shit.” She ran towards Nobuko at an alarming speed. Nobuko spun to face Lucy, but had no time to dodge before she was body-slammed, both of them landing on the ground with Lucy on top. Nobuko brought her blade down hard into the back of Lucy’s neck, and the tip broke off. She stabbed toward Lucy’s face, and Lucy grabbed the blade in her bare hand, wrenched it out of Nobuko’s grip, and tossed it aside. Then, Lucy decked Nobuko in the face, and she went still.

Lucy got up off Nobuko, panting, and walked over to Maddie, crouching down by her side. “You alright?”

“I’ll heal,” Maddie groaned, struggling up into a sitting position. “The ninja, though, I don’t know. I don’t hear a heartbeat.”

“Hear a--?” Lucy looked back over her shoulder at Nobuko’s limp form, but several girls with Students for a Better Tomorrow t-shirts had surrounded her. They lifted up Nobuko’s body and carried her toward the nearest doorway. “Hey—stop,” Lucy called out, coming after them. “Where are you going with her?” But the hellhound at the doorway blocked Lucy’s way, snarling, fire licking out of its nostrils. Lucy threw a kick at it and it dodged, then galloped off after the girls. Two of the other hellhounds also turned and followed. The fourth made a half-hearted move toward Kimberly, but Jessica landed a blow to its head, and it, too, retreated, emitting an otherworldy whine.

Foggy had run to Maddie’s side. “Maddie, Maddie, Jesus _Christ_ , what the fuck were you doing,” Foggy sobbed. “Jesus, you’re covered in blood, oh my god.”

“I’ll be… Fine,” Maddie said, her voice fading. “Foggy, I…” She passed out, slumped against Foggy.

 “Jesus, Jesus no,” Foggy said, slapping Maddie’s face, but Maddie was out. She looked up at Lucy, yelling. “She needs an ambulance. Do you have a phone? We need to call 911.”

“I know someone,” Lucy said, taking her phone out, “who can get to her faster.” She dialed. “Yeah, it’s me,” she said to the phone; then, to Foggy, “Where’s she live?”

“Bar-Barton,” Foggy answered. “But – ambulance –“

“Barton Hall,” Lucy said into the phone. “I’ll meet you out front.” She put her phone away and carefully hoisted Maddie onto her shoulder, legs dangling down. “Come with me – what’s your name?”

“Foggy…”

“Foggy, I’m Lucy. Don’t worry, alright? Claire’ll fix her up.” She turned to Jessica before exiting the ballroom. “Hey, you going to get back to the dorm okay?”

Karen was suddenly by Jessica’s side – when had that happened? “I’ll help her get back there,” Karen said. Jessica looked at Karen; she had a few cuts and scrapes, but a fire was lit behind her eyes, of the natural, non-hellish variety. All this had to be the best scoop of her life.

“Can you walk okay?” Karen said.

“I’ll manage.”

“Stokes Hall, right?” Jessica didn’t bother to question how Karen knew that. That little campus newspaper had a pretty decent investigative journalist on its hands.

“Yeah,” Jessica grunted. “Let’s go.”


	7. Chapter 7

Jessica woke up, uncharacteristically, at dawn. She was in her own bed, in her dorm room, wearing all her clothes except her boots. Fuzzy memories of how she’d gotten there sharpened themselves into focus: Karen helping her get home, helping her get into bed as exhaustion and the effects of the drug took her over. She remembered Karen talking excitedly about the piece she’d be writing, covering Students for a Better Tomorrow and their thwarted plan to put demons in six students. Jessica vaguely remembered possibly agreeing to be a source. She smacked herself in the forehead.

Lucy looked up from her book. “You’re awake.” Jessica blinked in surprise at her bald head before remembering. Kimberly’s flames.

“You’re here,” Jessica croaked in reply. She needed a drink.

Lucy sighed. She put her book down next to her on her bed. “Yeah. I’ve been running away from people who find out about me for too long. It’s time I came clean to one person, at least. One person who’s maybe a little bit like me.”

Jessica sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. “Alrighty, then. As long as what’s said in super-person club, stays in super-person club. You first.”

“My skin,” Lucy said. “It can’t be cut, can’t be pierced. Can’t be burned, as you saw last night. And, I’m kind of – extra fast, extra strong.”

Jessica nodded. “Same here, with the fast and the strong. Oh, and I can kind of basically fly.” She shrugged. “That’s it.”

“How’d you get that way?”

“Car accident as a kid, weird military chemicals. You know, the usual.” She left out the part about her whole family dying in the accident. “You?”

“I was in prison,” Lucy said. “They said I stole a backpack; I didn’t. But I had a minor juvie record from some dumb shit I did as a kid, so they put me in Riker’s to await trial. Took more than a year. I got involved with the wrong people in there, and ended up being part of an experiment I didn’t consent to. They… Modified me.”

Jessica stared at her, dumbfounded. “…Shit,” she said, in a low voice. She didn’t have anything else to say.

“They finally let me out with time served. Seventeen months. When I got out, I got my G.E.D. and applied to college. St. Josephine is one of the schools that doesn’t ask you about a criminal record. I got a good scholarship, and the federal student loans aren’t restricted for me since my conviction didn’t have to do with drugs. So… Here I am.”

“Our criminal justice system,” Jessica muttered. “Always doing everything it can to keep us safe, right?”

Lucy just looked at her.

“That was sarcasm,” Jessica clarified.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

“What’s your scholarship?”

Lucy chuckled humorlessly. “The Stokes Promising Students Fellowship.”

“Fuck… Stokes,” Jessica whispered. She ran her fingers through her hair. Sometime soon, she had to follow up on the connections between Students for a Better Tomorrow, President Dillard, and Cornelia Stokes.

Yeah. Later. Maybe after a Sunday spent in bed with her good buddy, whisky.

“How’d you end up at St. Josephine?” Lucy asked.

Jessica took a deep breath. Lucy had told her a lot of her own history. She should return the favor. “Well, I’m kind of both here to get an education and here on assignment,” she said.

“What?”

“I’m a demonhunter,” Jessica said. “Have been since I was 16.”

“Demonhunter – so, like, one of those people who’s trained and all that?” Jessica grunted in affirmative. “With a mentor, and everything?”

Jessica scowled. “Yeah, that part’s not that great.” She used air quotes. “My ‘mentor’ fucking sucks.”

Lucy was quiet a moment. Then, she laughed suddenly. “So that’s why you’ve been so interested in Students for a Better Tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Jessica admitted. “Had some leads that they were involved in demon stuff somehow. Looks like I was right.”

“Yeah, looks like,” Lucy under-stated, shaking her head.

Jessica pulled her knees up to her chest. “Humans collude with demons sometimes, but I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said. “This much … Organization.”

Lucy sounded skeptical: “Organization? In a campus student group?”

“It’s not just them. They’ve got big-deal backers. Dillard gave them a shit-ton of money. Money that came from Stokes.”

Lucy whistled. “You’re serious? And here I just thought Stokes was evil in the normal ways.”

“There’s a bigger plan here,” Jessica said. “Demons’ve been talking forever about taking over a city. All my and Jeri’s intel told us Philly was the prime target. I think they’re finally setting things into motion.” She rested her forehead on her knees.

Lucy was silent a while, before asking softly, “What’re you going to do?”

Jessica heaved a sigh. Then, she reached under her mattress to get her whisky flask. “Drink,” she said, unscrewing the top, and took a long pull, lost in dark thoughts.

When she looked up again, she was startled to find Lucy had gotten up and walked over to the side of her bed. “Whatever you need to do to fight this,” Lucy said, “I’ll help.” Jessica opened her mouth to brush off this offer, shaking her head and frowning, but Lucy interrupted. “No, no - listen. I’m strong, like you. I can’t burn. We could take on so many more demons with the two of us fighting. I’ll _help_ you, Jessica.” She picked up Jessica’s free hand and wound their fingers together. Jessica looked up at Lucy’s face, which was too sincere; she looked away. Jessica felt an emotion welling up that she didn’t want, and it made her angry at herself.

_I work alone, though. Always have._

_I can’t drag her into this._

_I can’t have her._

_I can’t tell her about what happened to me._

It made no sense, though, and Jessica knew it. Lucy was strong, even less vulnerable to being hurt by demons than Jessica herself was. She would be an excellent asset. Jeri would likely approve heartily.

Whether or not Jessica could date Lucy, whether or not she wanted that, if that was even on the table -- that was irrelevant.

Whether Jessica could tell Lucy about the demonic possession that had happened to her two years ago, that had left her with her special quirks she had now -- prone to panic, fond of drinking – that was even less than irrelevant. That had nothing to do with anything.

“Okay,” Jessica whispered.

Lucy nodded, and slowly they untangled their hands. “You wanna come with me, get breakfast?”

Jessica shook her head. “Not really hungry yet – too early.”

Jessica watched Lucy pick up her gym bag and head toward the door. She looked back at Jessica over her shoulder. “I guess I don’t have to lie anymore and tell you I’m going to the gym all the time.” She flexed a noteworthy bicep. “These just stay this way, now.” Jessica couldn’t help a grin, and Lucy smiled awkwardly back. Then, she was out.

Quite a lot of whisky later, Jessica found herself on a train to New Haven. She’d thrown everything she had at the dark thoughts – _everything she had_ meaning all the booze she had – and they just kept getting darker. She felt that slow descent into the pit. There was only one person she knew well enough, one person she trusted to give her a handhold, a foothold to keep her from sinking all the way down.

\--

When Maddie regained consciousness, she heard the crickets going full blast, smelled the dew gathering, and felt the lack of sun. It was the middle of the night.

While she’d been out, she’d had brief flashes of awareness of a person whose smell and voice were distantly familiar, cleaning and suturing her wounds. She shifted a little in bed and felt the many bandages and stitches all over her body; apparently it hadn’t been a dream. The smell and voice clicked for her, too. It was the nurse at the student health center who worked the night shift. Once in a while, Maddie had had an injury she couldn’t shrug off or suture herself.

Foggy was in the room, in her bed, half-awake but drifting off. Maddie heard her breathing and the electrical buzz from her laptop’s screen-saver. Maddie did not want to wake her, for more reasons than caring about Foggy’s comfort. She was not ready to have the conversation about what Foggy had seen that night. She felt she may never be ready.

Maddie moved the covers aside carefully, quietly, to get out of bed and use the bathroom. And maybe leave after that. Leave the dorm for a while, maybe leave campus. Maybe find somewhere in town to stay, to stay out of Foggy’s way for the rest of the school year.

She was wearing just her boxer shorts. She pulled on a t-shirt she’d left on the floor next to her bed, gasping in pain as the material moved over her cuts. Then, she stood up, and found it was too fast – she was immediately dizzy, a rushing noise in her ears, and staggered. She threw an arm out to catch herself on her desk before she fell.

The noise made Foggy stir and groan. “That you, Maddie?... Wha—are you trying to get _up_?”

Foggy was by her side immediately, steadying her. “You don’t get to go anywhere, you moron. Not with all the blood you lost. Not with how sliced up you are right now.”

“Foggy – I was just going to the bathroom,” Maddie said, half-truthfully.

“Well,” Foggy said, voice trembling, “you don’t get to go anywhere without me.”

Maddie swallowed. Shame washed over her as she realized what she’d been thinking of doing. Abandoning her best friend. Leaving her with no answers.

“Okay,” Maddie said, and let Foggy hold her up, leaned on Foggy as Foggy led her to the bathroom down the hall.

Maddie was still in the stall when Foggy took a deep breath, standing outside by the sinks, and started in on the questions Maddie knew were coming.

“Maddie,” Foggy began, in a quiet voice, “did you lie to me, to everyone, about being blind?”

Maddie sighed. It made sense that Foggy would start there. “No, Foggy. I am really blind.”

“But you can fight,” Foggy said. “Like a ninja. How do you … Know where things are?”

“My other senses are enhanced. To a degree that I can tell the shapes of things.”

There was silence for a moment. Maddie flushed and pulled her boxers up, but remained in the stall, sitting on the lid of the toilet. It was easier to talk to Foggy with a wall between them.

“So, okay – are you some kind of … Superhero?”

Maddie felt a pang in her heart. If only. _If only I was worthy of that._

“I’m a demonhunter,” Maddie said.

“…Is that the reason why you’re out so late every night?”

“Yeah.”

“So… I take it St. Josephine has got a bit of a demon problem?”

“You could say that.”

“Shit,” said Foggy. “And nobody even knows…”

 _Karen Page knows,_ Maddie thought. _She’s going to write about it, and then everyone will know._

“Who’s your guide-person, your mentor or whatever?” Foggy went on. “Demonhunters have those, right? Is it one of the professors here?”

“I don’t have one,” Maddie said. “I had one as a kid, who trained me.” _Stick._ Maddie mentally ducked and spun away from those memories. “I … Work alone, now.”

Foggy took a deep breath. Maddie heard her rubbing her head. “Whoa,” she said. “Whoa. Just. Assimilating.”

“Take your time,” Maddie said.

“Are you going to come out of that stall ever?”

Maddie sighed. Some brave fighter she was, not able to face her best friend. She opened the door and walked to the sinks.

Foggy enveloped her in a tight, desperate hug.

“Foggy,” Maddie complained weakly, muffled against Foggy’s neck, “I haven’t washed my hands yet.”

“I don’t care,” Foggy said, and Maddie heard the lump of mucus in her throat. Maddie cautiously wrapped her arms around Foggy in return.

“What, what is it? I’m okay. I’ll heal. I’m okay.”

“No, it’s just…” Foggy swallowed a sob. “Yeah, you’ll heal this time. What about other times? How long are you going to keep doing this?”

Truthfulness had momentum: now that Maddie had spilled some of it, it all came rushing out. “I will keep defending St. Josephine until I graduate,” Maddie said. “Then, I don’t know. I may stay near campus and continue to … Do my work here. I might need to go elsewhere in the city. Philadelphia is in danger. I need to protect it. One way or another, I’m never going to stop doing this, Foggy. Not as long as I’m alive.”

Foggy finally untangled herself from Maddie, but kept ahold of her hands. Maddie could make out the searching shape of her mouth and eyebrows. “And how long will that be?” Foggy asked, and Maddie could taste her tears in the air, hear them rolling down her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” said Maddie, choking up. Foggy crying was too much for her to bear.

“I need you not to leave me too soon,” Foggy said, and wrapped one hand around the base of Maddie’s head to pull her in. She kissed Maddie’s mouth, soft. Her lips were wet with tears.

Maddie kissed back, wrapped her arms around Foggy’s soft waist, and listened to Foggy’s heart rate pick up strongly. How long had she been waiting to find out whether Foggy’s love was more than platonic? It felt so good to finally know, it made her heart hurt.

They didn’t seem to be able to stop kissing each other, both of them getting a little out of breath. Maddie caressed Foggy’s back, tilting her head for a better angle. Foggy broke off for a moment to pant, “God, I’ve wanted you,” and dove back in, moaning around Foggy’s tongue. But then Foggy slid her hands up Maddie’s ribcage, forgetting about Maddie’s wounds. Maddie yelped in pain, and Foggy jumped back. “Sorry! Oh god, sorry…” The pain plus the adrenaline surge from kissing Foggy proved too much for Maddie in her weak state. She heard the rushing in her ears and felt her knees give out.

She came to again lifted off the ground and bouncing. Foggy was carrying her, her arms under Maddie’s knees and shoulders, and was staggering with the effort to get Maddie down the hallway and back to their room. “I’m awake,” Maddie croaked. “I can walk – just let me lean on you.” Foggy sighed with relief and let Maddie’s feet down. “Oh thank god,” she said, “all that muscle weighs a ton, babe.”

Foggy got her back in bed and pulled the covers over her. “Alright. Now this time for real. No getting up, and unfortunately no more tonsil hockey until you heal more. The last thing I want to do is kiss you to death.”

Maddie smiled. “Actually, that sounds kind of nice,” she said.

\--

The first day at Trish’s apartment, Trish gave Jessica space. She laid out clean towels for her, invited her to eat meals she made, but didn’t insist Jessica join her. They sat on the couch watching TV together, Jessica nursing the single glass of wine Trish had allowed her. But Trish didn’t ask any questions, didn’t push.

The second day, Trish tried to get Jessica to talk. “There really isn’t anything to say,” Jessica said, finally. “You know I have issues because of when that thing possessed me. Well, last Saturday something tried to possess me again. Triggers, echoes, yada yada. That’s it. Can I get another glass of wine?”

“But, it didn’t,” Trish said, ignoring the wine request. “You fought it. You won.”

“For now,” Jessica replied, non-committally.

“You’re so strong, Jess. You know how to defend yourself now, and you’re vigilant—“

“Yeah, hypervigilant,” Jessica muttered. “Could do without that.”

Trish shook her head. “You did such good work Saturday night, from what you told me. You and five other people could have been possessed, and God knows what would’ve happened to everyone being controlled by the music. You stopped it all. That was _you_.”

 _The music part wasn’t even me,_ Jessica thought. _If it’d just been me, I’d be dead._ She put her empty wine glass on the coffee table and sighed. “I think I have to get out of this business. And drop out of St. Josephine. I can’t hack it.”

“That’s bullshit, Jessica,” Trish said, her voice hardening, and Jessica looked up at her in surprise. “You can so hack it. You’ve been hacking it like a pro.” She held out her hands. “Yeah, shit like this happens, and you need a little time to regroup. That’s just normal. But St. Josephine _needs_ you.”

“Nah,” Jessica said. “There’s another demonhunter there now. Actually, she’s been there longer than me, I think. Plus, there are … Other people. They can take care of it.”

“Another demonhunter?” Trish said, eyebrows drawing together.

“Yeah, this ninja type. She’s kind of an asshole, but she takes care of business. There’s no need for me there, honestly.”

Trish broke out into a broad smile. Jessica narrowed her eyes at her.

“So you two can work together,” Trish said.

Jessica snorted. “Fat fucking chance!” But she thought about Lucy, and what Lucy had offered. And Jessica had agreed.

On the third day, Trish handed Jessica a train ticket back to Philly. “I don’t want to see you here when I get back home later,” she said. “Get back to school. And text me when you’re home safe – okay?” She hugged Jessica tight. Then she left for class.

Jessica sulked for a good fifteen minutes. Then she went to raid Trish’s wine cabinet, and swore when she found it was locked. No doubt Trish had the key with her in her purse; Trish always thought ahead like that. Jessica rummaged in the bathroom until she found a bobby pin to pick the lock with, and stood staring at it for a minute or two, until she sighed and put it back.

She stuffed her extra clothes back into her backpack and headed out to catch the train.

\--

When Jessica walked out of Hemsworth Hall after her biology class that Friday, Karen and Foggy were waiting for her. She looked from one to the other, sighing, remembering vaguely a promise she’d made to Karen when drugged and injured.

“So, what,” she said, jerking her chin at Foggy. “You work for the St. Jo Weekly now, too?”

Foggy and Karen looked at each other and back at Jessica. “No,” Foggy said. “Karen can interview you later, this conversation is strictly off the record.”

“We want to talk to you about demons,” Karen added.

“Not now,” Jessica said. “I need breakfast.” She started down the hill toward the dining hall.

“We’ll walk with you,” Karen said. Jessica fought an urge to fly away from them to shake them. This was probably important.

“So, you know about my friend now,” Foggy began, looking around and using a stage whisper. “The other demonhunter. Karen knows about her, too.”

“Murdock?” Jessica said. “Yeah, half the campus probably knows about her after the party. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one that saw her go all black belt in there.”

“I’ve been asking around,” Karen said, “the people I’ve talked to actually have no idea who she was. They think it couldn’t possibly be the blind girl. Trust cognitive dissonance to keep things hidden in plain sight.”

“But our point is, we all need to stick together,” Foggy said. “There are at least two of you with superpowers on this campus-“

Karen jumped in. “I’m thinking three, with your friend who took a fire blast to the face no problem.”

“-And you all took care of the threats, only because you were all there,” Foggy continued.

“Yeah,” said Karen. “You broke the disco ball, which I’m thinking was a magically-charged object, channeling the demonic spirits into you and those other women. Maddie took care of the DJ. I’ve been researching what that dancing stuff was all about; it looks like it was a ritual that would have boosted the power of the demons entering your bodies. Your fire-resistant buddy then helped you both with your fights – imagine if it’d been only one of you in there.”

Jessica had already imagined it. Too many times.

“You all need each other,” said Foggy.

Jessica stopped on the path and turned to them, hands on hips. “So, you’re asking me to become part of a super-team.”

“I know how that sounds,” Karen began.

“Listen. Maddie got hurt, bad,” Foggy said, her tone emotional but firm. “She could’ve gotten killed. It’s just stupid for you all to be putting yourselves in danger individually. I just…” She ran a hand over her face. “Maddie is… I love her, okay? I need to believe she’s got a better chance. That someone has her back. Would you please… For me. Just have her back?”

Jessica looked at the ground. She didn’t have any good reasons to say no to that. Having peoples’ backs: that was the whole reason Jessica was doing this at all, why she’d agreed to follow her calling and be a demonhunter. Why she kept doing it, after everything she’d been through.

She’d have to talk Lucy into it. But that wouldn’t be the hard part.

“Yeah,” Jessica said. “Yeah. I’ll have her back.”

“Good,” said Karen, starting down the path again. “Now I have to catch you up on what I’ve been learning. Students for a Better Tomorrow has disbanded, naturally, but the Deans haven’t brought disciplinary action against any of its members. Meanwhile, there’s a new group forming, calling themselves the Light and Truth Society. Their public leader is named Sara Knowles – ring a bell?”

“Shit, yeah,” said Jessica.

“I’ve also been gathering dirt on a Nobuko Yoshioka,” Karen continued. “I think her involvement might be pretty heavy.”

“Nobuko. That’s the ninja that cut up Murdock,” Jessica said.

Karen’s eyebrows went up as she absorbed that, nodding. “We’ve got a lot to talk about. Let’s go get some coffee.”

Foggy piped up. “And I know you don’t want it to be a super-team, but I’ll be the super-team’s helpful sidekick. I can bring baked goods, and I make very convincing arguments - I’m pre-law. Maybe I can help get you guys out of legal trouble someday.”

Jessica smiled a little. Such optimism: that they would still know each other years from now. That Jessica would still be alive. That Philadelphia wouldn’t have fallen to the demons, in their first conquest as they took over the country.

Optimism was kind of like booze, though. Bad for you, maybe, but made things feel a little better for a while.

“Oh, hey, and there’s another super-person I found out about that you all should get to know,” Karen said. “You heard of the heiress Danielle Rand? Supposedly ‘on leave’ this semester? Well, she’s actually suspended right now, for putting her fist through the wall of the Languages and Literatures building - she caused structural damage.” Jessica smacked herself in the forehead while Karen grinned. “She’s coming back to campus next semester.”

\--

The winter air blew in harshly when Maddie opened their dorm room window. “Wait, don’t leave yet,” Foggy said, getting up from her computer. It was one in the morning, but she was still hacking away at a term paper due the next day.

Foggy came over to Maddie, took her helmeted head in both her hands, and kissed her exposed mouth. “Be safe,” she said.

Maddie nodded. “I will.” Nobody could ever be totally safe. But _being safe_ meant many things, and Maddie assuaged her conscience that she was only partially making a false promise.

She stepped one leg out the window, onto the sill, as Foggy sat back down at her desk. “Oh, and say hi to everyone for me,” Foggy called over her shoulder, and Maddie lightly leapt down from their third-floor window.

She crossed campus quietly, sticking to wooded areas and roofs when she could, and made her way to the Astronomy Department observatory, where she scaled her way up to the roof. Lucy and Jessica were already there. Lucy was holding something up to her face that Maddie identified after a moment as a pair of binoculars.

“Little bursts of fire coming from the woods, around where Jo-Henge is,” Lucy said, lowering the binoculars.

Maddie titled her head. “Hellhounds. I can hear them growling.”

“Karen said those Light and Truth bastards were planning something big,” Jessica said.

Suddenly, Maddie felt a disturbance, like a small earthquake. “Did either of you feel that?”

“Feel what?” Jessica asked.

“I think they’re opening the portal,” Maddie said. “For something to come through. Something not human.”

“C’mon, let’s go,” Jessica said. She slung an arm around Lucy’s waist and flew down from the building, Maddie climbing and leaping down. On the ground, the three of them took off running for the woods.

The Defenders of St. Josephine were ready for action.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspirations (besides the Defenders, of course) include: Buffy, Crazyhead, the campus of the (co-ed) college I went to, the women’s college I live near, another city I lived in for street names for Jessica’s mantra, the beautiful universe of fanfic that taught me I can just make everyone gay women if I want to, and [Kalief Browder,](http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/10/06/before-the-law) R.I.P.: the system took away his life because someone accused him of stealing a backpack.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for "The Demonhunters of St. Josephine" (fanart)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793759) by [chargetransfer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chargetransfer/pseuds/chargetransfer), [Neurocrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurocrat/pseuds/Neurocrat)




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